


The Cure

by ArgentSleeper



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 53,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23257096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentSleeper/pseuds/ArgentSleeper
Summary: Things are going well for Merlin. No one suspects his secret, Morgana’s mostly ignoring him, and it’s been at least a week since anyone tried to kill Arthur. But then Uther gets a visitor boasting an invention that could bring the end to the world as Merlin knows it: a cure for magic.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 270





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please see profile for notes.
> 
> Set late S3.

“Come along, Merlin! Stop dragging your feet! Honestly, you’d think I made you walk this whole way instead of riding that horse.”

“Yes, I did ride a horse, and so did you, and now those horses would like a drink, and they don’t much care for your timetables, you prat!”

Merlin didn’t really care for them either, but he wasn’t about to say so. They’d been out on this patrol for four days already. Arthur had alternated all that time between pressing them to go faster –his current trend –and dragging his feet just as much as he accused Merlin of, veering off into villages and towns just because “it’s my duty as the crown prince to know the state of my kingdom, Merlin, and that means all it, even down to the lowliest peasant,” going on long hunts to shore up their stores for the quickly coming winter, and trying out a new path “because who knows what manner of bandits could be lurking just off the usual trail.”

He wasn’t sure what had brought on the strange behaviour. It was like Arthur was avoiding returning to Camelot and afraid of staying away too long all at the same time. Whatever it was, it was childish and irritating. Merlin was exhausted from nights of sleeping outside and days in the saddle. He was certainly not in the mood to be yelled at simply because the horses needed a rest just as much as he did.

Merlin led the mounts back to where the other knights stood waiting, tossing out filled water skins to outstretched hands. He heaved himself onto his poor mare, settling into the saddle with a groan. His body was not going to ever forgive him (or rather Arthur) for this outing. He would rather walk by this point. At least then it would just be his back screaming at him and not his backside.

He was just grateful they were within a couple hours now of the city. Although Merlin wouldn’t put it past the prince to try to lead them on yet _another_ detour, he wasn’t the only one harbouring a growing annoyance for every time they went off the beaten path, though of course most of the knights kept silent about their own feelings. Sir Leon, the only one who _had_ spoken up, had long since given up his attempts, however, to suggest that “we really ought to be getting back, sire, before they send out a search party after us.”

Merlin was slightly _less_ polite about his protestations, demanding that he stop being such a turniphead and just let them go home already.

Arthur didn’t insist on another deviation, but he did grow more and more fidgety the closer they got to the city. Merlin almost made a biting comment about how wasn’t _he_ supposed to be the one who couldn’t keep still in the saddle, but exhaustion and aches won over the desire to tease. The endless twitching was about to drive him mad, however when the turrets finally came into view through the trees. The prince signalled for the others to go ahead, and he would follow from the rear. Merlin held back, bringing his horse up beside his master.

“So, _now_ will you tell me what’s got your teeth so on edge?”

“What on earth are you talking about? I’m fine.” The clenched way he hissed it out did nothing to convince Merlin.

“Sure. And that’s why our usual day long patrol suddenly became a four day stroll of the countryside. The king’s going to kill you, you know. I’m surprised we didn’t meet that search party Leon kept harping on about on the way here.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Merlin,” Arthur snapped back. “I’m the crown prince. If I decide that there are things that need to be done around the kingdom that happen to keep me away from the citadel longer than usual, well, that’s my duty to the monarchy, is it not?”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “ _Right_. Fine, if you don’t want to tell me, then I suppose I’ll just have to find out on my own later, won’t I?”

If it was even possible, Arthur looked even more nervous at that suggestion. He still wouldn’t give in, though. “Whatever. Although I suppose you’ll be much too busy doing my laundry, polishing my armour, and sharpening my sword to be bothered with chasing your little imagined assumptions. After all, being out here for four days means you’re already three days behind on your post-patrol chores! You’re just lucky the horses haven’t been in the stalls all this time!”

With that he took off towards the castle. Merlin followed behind with a sigh. Whatever was eating the prince, it seemed it was going to take some work to figure it out. He simply hoped whatever it was could be more easily solved than his back problems.

* * *

Arriving in the courtyard, they didn’t get their normal reception of half a dozen knights, Gwen, Morgana, and the occasional Uther or Gaius. That was fine by Merlin, though. He missed spending as much time with Gwen as he used to, but the less time he had to spend in Morgana’s presence the better. It cut down on the chances she might snap and throw caution to the wind, throttling him on the steps.

One of the servants met them in the corridor, huffing and clutching his side as if he’d just sprinted the length of the castle. "Sire, the king heard of your arrival and sent me to fetch you to the council chambers immediately for an audience. They are awaiting you eagerly."

Which meant they had wanted to start ten minutes ago, but Uther had heard they were back and wanted to punish Arthur as publicly as he could without actually punishing him.

"Tell him I'll be there momentarily." Arthur's words were bland, but Merlin could see the infinitesimal way his brow furrowed and corners of his mouth tilted downward. Of course that was his stock reaction to dealing his father, but in light of his recent actions, Merlin took note. "Merlin, go see if Gaius needs anything."

"Pardon, sire, but the physician is already in attendance with the king."

"Right. Come on then, Arthur. Don't want to keep 'em waiting." Merlin strode off down the corridor without waiting for the prince.

That was odd. Sure, it wasn’t like Arthur looked for excuses to keep him around, but he didn’t usually casually –or what was meant to seem like casually– dismiss him either, especially to help Gaius and not do a few dozen impossible chores for his prattish-ness. Yet another tally on the weird things that Arthur was up to.

Arthur hurried along after him a second later. "Merlin, you do remember who gives the orders around here, don't you?" But the strained jibe was without any sting, almost pleading, actually, if Merlin could believe Arthur knew how to beg.

"Of course I do. The king. Who we're going to see. Come along."

Arthur finally got his head back under him by the time they reached the council chambers. He squared his shoulders and strode into the room with the posture of all his missing confidence from before. Merlin followed dutifully behind, taking up his normal position beside Gaius. He hoped this wouldn’t take long. He planned to ask Gaius to work the kinks out of his back the moment Arthur let him have five minutes to himself.

The place was filled with courtiers as it usually was when Uther was sure the day’s topic was going to make him look good. Merlin grinned when he spotted Gwen, who granted him a tiny smile back from behind her mistress. Morgana oddly looked just as strained as Arthur, though she was doing a much better job of hiding it. Only the lines around her eyes and the thinness of her lips gave her away.

Of course, no one but Merlin was looking anyway.

Arthur took up his place next to his father. Uther was in full kingly command today, and appeared the happiest out of any of them in the entire chambers. Now Merlin found himself filled with dread. Uther only became happy over two things: Arthur's success and success over magic.

Merlin could not recall Arthur being particularly successful lately.

Kneeling before him was a tall, thin, strangely familiar man. His greying blond hair was cropped short except for his beard, which was long and untamed. Next to him a large trunk with a heavy silver padlock had been set up on a low table.

"Master Darius, now that Prince Arthur has finally arrived, perhaps you can be so kind as to tell us what goods you have for us this visit."

The man rose to his feet, giving another bootlicking bow before continuing, "First I would like to express my regrets on behalf of my family for the actions of my brother. I swear we did not know of his treachery beforehand. We are ever loyal to the king and Camelot."

Uther waved his hand lazily in acceptance of the apology. "Of course you are. Your family's loyalty was never doubted, Darius. Aredian was nothing but a bad seed. There is always one in the bunch."

Merlin stiffened, and he noticed Arthur's nervous gaze flick over towards him and Gaius. So _that_ was why everyone was on edge. Merlin felt himself unconsciously battling between a desire to step in front of Gaius to defend him and to step behind him and hide. It ended up with him simply shuffling nervously in place with a panicked look in his eyes.

He could _not_ go through another witchfinder. Aredian may have been naught but a power-hungry bully, but he had still managed to find all three hidden sorcerers in the court in less than a week. Merlin had nearly lost Gaius and his own life that week. He was just lucky that Aredian had panicked and pulled a dagger on Morgana instead of staying calm and managing to convince everyone that it wasn’t his own magic that was causing all the oddities, but Merlin’s (which ironically would have been true), throwing him to burn in the fires with Gaius. It was not an experience he wanted to repeat.

And this was his brother.

"Yes, well, sire, I have brought you something I think you will find makes up for any bad seeds in the past. In fact, my gift for you, you might say, has the ability to turn a bad seed into a good one."

Uther's formerly intrigued face had turned bored now, and he had retreated to sitting on his throne. "Darius, if you had told me before we were going to be discussing agriculture, I would have invited you to speak to the head of the guild, whom I’m sure would be more than interested. I have no problems at the moment with feeding my people, thank you."

"Oh, no, your majesty,” Darius corrected quickly, “I talk not of agriculture, but of livestock. The livestock that is sorcerers." _Now_ he had everyone's attention back. "What do you do now when you catch a sorcerer, your majesty?"

"They are executed immediately. We give no quarter to traitorous curs."

"Yes, of course. But just think for a moment. How many do you think are executed each year? How many lives wasted? Lives that could be spared?"

"Now see here-"

Even Arthur had to jump in now. "Surely you're not suggesting–"

Merlin gaped. Because from where he was standing it looked like Darius surely _was_ suggesting that Uther Pendragon was unfairly murdering sorcerers. To his face.

Forget being afraid of him. Merlin was pretty sure he worshiped him.

"Oh please, my lords, don't take my meaning wrong!" Darius cried as guards began to loom forward. "I'm simply saying, what if there were another way. A better way. A way that might endear you to the other kingdoms?”

"And what way would this be?" Uther asked thinly.

Darius beckoned towards the back of the room. A hulking man dragged forth a young woman, perhaps a few years older than Merlin. She was thrown to the floor. The woman scrabbled up to trembling knees, keeping her head bowed. Merlin could see a red weal spreading across her cheek from the corner of her mouth back to her hairline, and her wrists were chafed where rough rope had scratched into them.

"My lords, this is just a little sorceress I picked up on my way here. Have no fear, she's perfectly harmless. Or at least she will be in just a moment," Darius promised as he pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the trunk. He opened the lid to reveal rows and rows of sealed vials, each filled with a dark liquid.

"My dear, if you would care to demonstrate your powers? And remember…" he bent down to whisper in her ear.

The woman blanched. She raised her hand shakily, but words seemed to fail her for fear. Merlin noted the druid symbol on her wrist. Gently he reached out to her.

**_“It's alright. You're not alone.”_ **

The woman didn't quite jump. In fact, she actually seemed to relax, though her eyes widened perceptibly, jumping around the room to find the one who spoke directly to her mind, an action that hopefully the rest of the room simply took for fright. “ ** _Who are you?”_**

**_“My name is Merlin. I'm a friend. It's okay. Just show him what you can do.”_ **

**_“It's not okay. You need to run, Merlin. Run as far and as fast as you can.”_ **

Despite her words, her hand and voice steadied and she intoned in a quiet whisper, " _Leohtbora_." All around the room the candelabras burst into flame.

The hulking man smacked the woman back down as the council chambers went into an uproar, several guards and knights drawing their swords and half lunging forward, unsure if this was some form of attack. Even Arthur had his own sword half out of the scabbard before Uther reached out a hand to still him. By the time everyone was back under control again, Merlin was definitely hiding behind Gaius and unashamed to admit it.

His new position had not escaped the notice of the old physician, who was frowning deeply. With a comforting squeeze to Merlin’s arm, Gaius stepped further in front of his ward to give greater shielding.

"Your majesty, in a case like this, having just caught this woman doing magic, you would kill this good sorceress, would you not?" Darius was saying. "Which brings me to my argument for today. What if you didn’t have to resort to such methods? What if death were not the only answer? What if you could show _mercy_ instead?"

Merlin's knees were starting to go weak. This could not be good. This could be anything but good.

"Contained in this little vial is the answer to all your problems. Allow me to demonstrate." 

_Morgana, feign a fainting spell, please. A cold. A bad hair day. Anything._

**_“I do this for them. Tell them I’m sorry. Please, tell them-”_ **

Meaty hands pried the woman’s jaw open, and the contents of the vial were poured in, choked down as her nose was plugged to take away any other option.

**_“Tell who? Hello? Who do I need to tell? Please, tell me; what’s he done to you?”_ **

There was no answer.

"Now, my dear,” Darius’s voice was slick with glee, “if you could do that little trick for us again."

"...I cannot..." her whisper wavered even more than before, tears choking her word.

"Oh, come on now,” he coaxed, “just try, just once, for me..."

" _I can't_..."

" _Now_ , wench."

Limply a hand came and with a dull tone, she obeyed. " _Leohtbora_."

Nothing happened.

Merlin reached out with his mind once more for the woman, but she didn't answer back. He didn't even notice he was starting to hyperventilate until Gaius grabbed his arm again and whispered, "Breathe, my boy, you have to breathe."

Breathe? As in take air in and let it out in a reasonably spaced repeating pattern? Yes, of course Merlin needed to do that. In fact he was going to drop everything and focus the rest of his life on just inhaling and exhaling because it turned out those breaths were not just numbered as he’d always known they were, but that he had fewer of them than even he’d ever thought and the number was dwindling rapidly before his very eyes, and honestly, how could he even think of doing anything else when his every precious breath could be his last, and he maybe didn’t know when that last would be, but he did know it was going to be very very soon.

"And afterwards, what do you suggest we do with them?" Uther was saying once Merlin had semi-control of his facilities back. "The scoundrels may no longer be able to practice magic but they still have committed a crime. You do not punish a murderer by taking away his blade and sending him on his way.”

"Ah yes, that is true, but you do punish a thief by cutting off his hand. That is what I have given you here today, sire. Only with a sorcerer, I find it most efficient to aim for the heart." Darius bowed. "The rest is up to you, my lord. I would never think to make that decision on your behalf. Continue to kill them if you wish, sell them to other kingdoms for a profit, keep them as labour. You need only be content in the knowledge that no matter what they will never be able to practice their wicked ways against you again."

Uther smiled broadly and clapped Arthur on the back. "Do you hear that, my son? I never thought I'd see the day. But it seems we finally have a cure for magic."

Merlin changed his mind again. He didn't want to worship Darius. He wanted to kill him.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur let him go with Gaius while he stayed with his father to discuss the deal with Darius. At least, that’s what Merlin assumed happened, because all he really knew was that the person dragging him from the room was not the prince, and he didn’t have the wherewithal to correct that fact at the moment. He was just glad, because he didn’t think he would be able to keep up his regular dopey smile right now. He was sure that anyone looking at him could tell just how terrified he was. He may as well have been holding up a sign that said, “I’m a sorcerer, but please don’t hurt me?”

Luckily Gaius was much better at keeping his head, hauling Merlin through the corridors back to their quarters. He threw the boy down on a bench and made sure the door was locked tight. The physician went to his shelves and picked up a small bottle, shoving it into Merlin’s hands.

“Drink, boy. Drink and _breathe_ , though for heaven’s sake, don’t do them both at the same time.”

Merlin obeyed, downing it in one, simply because he didn’t know what else to do. The potion worked quickly, calming his ability to think, if not his ability to feel.

A potion to get rid of magic. No, not a potion, a poison. Merlin had once thought the worst that could happen to him was that he could be killed. His opinion on that had wavered ever so slightly over the past few years, especially recently –he’d begun to wonder if perhaps to be hated was actually much worse than being killed– but he still lived in fear of execution every day of his life. And now it seemed he had something much worse to fear than death. Something that could instead take away his very being. A living death.

“We cannot panic, Merlin. Not yet. We don’t know yet what Uther is going to do. He may only force those convicted of sorcery to drink that concoction. They have no reason to suspect you, and it should stay that way, at least it will so long as you don’t do anything stupid.”

But oftentimes stupid was Merlin’s M.O., and they both knew it. He didn’t know how to function otherwise.

“And what if he does? Make everyone drink it? What do I do then, Gaius? How am I supposed to protect Arthur without my magic? How? I do know how to do anything without magic!”

“Merlin!”

Merlin forced himself to take a deep breath again.

“Nothing has happened yet,” Gaius repeated sternly. “It may be that nothing will. You are still Arthur’s servant. That still provides you with a modicum of protection. You know he doesn’t even think there’s a possibility of you being a sorcerer. He won’t mandate it for you, even if it Uther orders it.”

Deep down, Merlin knew there was truth in Gaius’s words. How many times had he been accused of sorcery by now? Why, the one time Merlin had come out and accused himself. Arthur had barely known him back then, hardly been his master for more than a few months. He hadn’t even _liked_ Merlin. Yet he had immediately rushed to refute the claim, denying steadfastly, almost threateningly, that Merlin couldn’t possibly, in any realm of reason, be a sorcerer.

So no, maybe Arthur really wouldn’t even consider the necessity of Merlin taking the poison.

Odd how before this had happened, such a thought would have filled him with the utmost sadness. Now he was supposed to pray it always remained so.

That just made him sadder.

“Arthur’s going to call for you when he’s done with the king. Do you think you can get a hold of yourself enough to attend to him? If not, I’ll tell him that in a fit of exhaustion after such a long time in the woods you tripped and fell down the stair, knocking yourself out. I’m sure he’ll have no problems believing it.”

Merlin couldn’t say he wasn’t tempted by the proposition. It would be so easy to do it. He could take a strong sleeping draught and let Gaius tell Arthur he was unconscious and perhaps even needed a few days off until the concussion went away. He could avoid and take his time and pretend it wasn’t happening.

And while he was doing that, it would continue to happen regardless.

He shook his head. “No, I have to go. Arthur’d get suspicious if I didn’t. If I actually did fall and crack my head open, someone would have run and told him already. He probably won’t need me soon, anyway. He’s as exhausted as I am after that patrol, even though it is all his fault in the first place. He won’t call for me until it’s time to bring him every scrap of food in the kit–” Merlin trailed off, horror buzzing through his mind again. “Gaius, what if he’s dining with Uther and that man tonight? What if I have to serve them? I can’t do that! I can maybe handle Uther, but what if Darius can tell I have magic? He’s related to a witchfinder! Maybe it’s a genetic thing, like they can smell it on you-”

Gaius grabbed Merlin by the shoulders and forced him to look him in the eye. “The only scent you have, Merlin, is the scent of someone who’s spent four days traipsing through the woods. There is no way to smell out sorcery. The only way to ever know for certain someone has magic is to actually see them do it. But it’s alright. You won’t have to dine with Darius tonight, anyway.”

“How can you know?”

“Well, for one, as you said, Arthur is far too exhausted by this point for Uther to expect him to be presentable for company longer than necessary. He won’t extend an invitation and risk the prince causing an embarrassment, particularly after Darius has gone to such lengths to please him. Even Morgana won’t be there, as she has lately found herself feeling ill with troubles of a womanly nature.”

_I’m sure she has_ , Merlin grumbled to himself. At the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a small weight lift at that.

“And what’s more, I can know this for absolute certain because the one who will be dining with them will be me.”

* * *

Arthur plopped himself down in his favourite chair, feeling himself relax for the first time in days.

Of course, when he first heard his father mention the coming arrival of Master Darius, relaxing had been the last thing he could hope to manage. His entire body went taut and his mind went into overdrive. Really, looking back on it he had completely overreacted, honestly.

_"Are you sure about this, Father? You do remember what happen last time we had one of his kin here in Camelot, don't you?" He still couldn’t bring himself to come out and repeat the results of that encounter._

_"Of course I do. But you cannot hold the actions of one against the family as a whole. Darius swears he has made some kind of breakthrough in the fight against sorcery. It is our duty to the people to hear him out."_

_Arthur hadn’t dared question him further. The potential for "If I can't blame them for what happened then all who’s left to blame is you" to come blurting out even as an insinuation was much too high._

_But he immediately went from there to the physician's chambers. Gaius was in, reading from one of his myriad of tomes. He looked up as the prince entered._

_"Can I help you, sire? Merlin's not here, I’m afraid. You actually just missed him. He came by a few moments ago for a remedy for one of the maids. He noticed she was coughing abnormally, but of course she refused to come for my help, said she apparently didn't have time for it with tending to her mistress or some such nonsense. Honestly, you’d think servants these days would have more sense. Though sometimes I swear it’s lucky Merlin sleeps in that back room, or I wouldn't know to treat him for half the messes he gets himself into-"_

_"Gaius," Arthur cut him off finally, afraid a dressing down for making Merlin work too hard was in his near future. "Gaius, I just heard from my father. The witchfinder Aredian's brother is coming to Camelot. He'll be here in three days."_

_Arthur had to hand it to him; Gaius didn't panic. His skin paled and his breathing hitched slightly, but all his wits remained firmly in place. "Have you spoken to him? Uther has to know this is madness to invite him here."_

_"I tried. He won't be dissuaded. Says this Darius has a new weapon against sorcerers that he just has to get his hands on."_

_Gaius sighed, and Arthur could have sworn the old man actually rolled his eyes. "Of course he does," he muttered. Louder he asked, "Does Merlin know yet?"_

_Arthur shook his head. Uther had such a dislike for Merlin that Arthur tended to give him orders that kept the two apart. The last thing he needed was to have to sit through yet another lecture on why didn't he just sack the clearly mentally afflicted man and find a new servant. Especially since the majority of the time Arthur honestly didn’t know the answer himself._

_"Right. Well if you don't mind, sire, I do believe I'm going to run out of several vital supplies in three days. Crucial herbs I simply cannot find in the lower town. I'm going to need Merlin to go out and collect them for me. The knees, you know, they're not quite what they used to be. It could take all day. I really shouldn't have left it so long."_

_Arthur cottoned on immediately to what Gaius was meaning to do. "Shouldn't you go with him? I mean..." he trailed off. He wasn't sure what he meant._

_Gaius smiled wryly. "No, Arthur. I don’t mean to imply that we are running away or anything so rash. Merlin and I are loyal subjects. We’ve no reason to fear.” Of course, they’d no reason to fear last time, either, and look what had happened. “I only mean to keep Merlin out of it as much as I can. You know how he can be. I don’t want him hearing about this and doing something foolish. It was bad enough last time.”_

_Unfortunately, Arthur did indeed know how Merlin could be. When Gaius had been interrogated and condemned to death by the witchfinder and his father, Arthur had spent the entire time worried that the claims of “Aredian’s a liar” were going to turn into “Gaius is a liar; he’s just doing this to try to protect me; throw me in the flames instead, please.” It wasn’t that Arthur hadn’t cared about Gaius’s fate; it was just that he knew that Gaius himself cared about Merlin’s more._

_And Arthur wasn’t an idiot. He was all too aware that the only way Merlin could have possibly known for sure there would be condemning evidence in Aredian’s chambers was if he had already snuck in and searched them himself._

_The idea that some of it may have also been planted had also crossed his mind for the briefest second._

_Arthur let out a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. “Sending him to gather herbs is fine, but there’s no way to know for certain then that he’ll be gone long enough to keep him out of trouble. But… I’m due to go out on patrol the day before this Darius arrives. It’s only supposed to be for the day, but perhaps we can stay out a bit longer. Just until he’s gone and any talk of him has died down.”_

_“And what of the king? I’m sure he wishes you to be present for all this.”_

_“I can’t tell him I intend to stay out longer and will miss it. He’d probably just order me to return by sundown or forbid me from going in the first place. No, you’ll be the only one who can know beforehand. I’m sorry; you’ll have to keep him from worrying and sending someone out after us when I don’t return. He’ll just have to accept that something came up which required my presence. He’ll get over it in time.” Arthur thought of the grumbling he was going to have to put up during this exchange for this surprise extended trip. And the further berating that would come when a certain manservant found out that he had been lied to and kept away while his mentor was in potential danger. “They both will.”_

Of course, when they had returned, it was to discover Darius’s arrival had been delayed due to a bridge that had collapsed during a torrential rainstorm and flooded the rivers. Which meant that not only had they failed to keep Merlin out of it, but Merlin was now starting the whole ordeal out in a foul mood from having to deal with the extended patrol and Arthur’s failure to hide his anxiety over Gaius.

And then it turned out to be a bit of an anti-climax. Darius wasn’t there to search out and condemn innocent people of sorcery (although it turned out Gaius had once been less than innocent in that regard). He was actually there simply to be of help, giving them a weapon that could eliminate the threat with the least amount of bloodshed. Arthur wholeheartedly approved. A warrior he may have been, but he was no killer, and he truly believed neither was his father. If there was another way to deal with this whole magic ordeal, he knew they would take it.

The ability to subdue sorcerers with a simple draught… it was more than Arthur had even thought possible. When the court had been dismissed after the demonstration, Darius went into more detail about his miracle potion. It was a completely painless process. The magic was simply rendered inert, like a highly effective, permanent cough suppressant. It could be given even to non-sorcerers without harmful side effects, and once taken the person in question would never have the potential to practice magic again.

The question of what to do with the traitor after they took the potion was still up for strong debate and probably would be for a while with his father and the counsellors. The entire purpose of killing a sorcerer was so that they would never be able to commit their treachery again. But if they no longer were able to… well, his father was right, they still had to be punished for their evil, but there was no need to execute them to protect the people anymore.

There was a knock on the door. A moment later, Merlin entered, carrying a large tray of food. Arthur grinned as the scent wafted over to him. He hadn’t been any happier about four days in the woods than the rest of them, despite the fact it was his fault –well, _Merlin’s_ fault, actually, the idiot –they’d been forced to do it. “There you are! Set it down on the table. You may as well pull up a chair. Famished as I am, I’m not going to be able to eat all that, and there’s no point in letting it go to waste.”

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Merlin grumbled under his breath, though not quietly enough Arthur didn’t catch it (which was probably the point).

Yes, he was in a good mood. Gaius was fine, Merlin hadn’t built himself a pyre and cheerfully lit it up, and they were one giant step closer to ridding the land of a great evil. What _wasn’t_ there to be happy about?

“Well, if you’re going to be in a foul one, perhaps I’ll retract my invitation.”

Merlin’s eyes widened at that, and he promptly sat himself down. Arthur smirked. They both knew that the few meals Arthur deigned to let Merlin share from were of far better quality than the ones cobbled together by Gaius. Merlin would never let anything get in the way taking advantage of that, not even if he was feeling a bit grumpy.

Arthur ignored Merlin’s less than cheerful mood while the servant served them both then tucked quietly into his meal. Probably he had found out that Arthur and Gaius knew about Aredian’s brother’s visit and had plotted to keep him away from it. Well, as Arthur had said before, he would get over it eventually. He’d already sat through his father’s dressing down for staying away for so long without sending word, he could survive Merlin’s scowls.

Unfortunately Merlin’s sulkiness made for a rather awkward tension. Arthur was used to his servant filling the silences, not creating them. “I’m afraid there are going to be an awful lot of meetings with the council in the near future,” he ventured. “Remind me to go see Gaius to get something to keep me awake. Although at least the subject matter promises to be something interesting from now on, don’t you think?”

It was obvious Merlin wasn’t paying attention, for all he nodded distractedly at the appropriate intervals. Arthur continued on, “After all, it could be even more hours on end of discussing regulations for the maximum height of houses in the lower town. I mean, honestly, who’s actually going down there and measuring every house in the lower town? It’s not like anyone’s going to make a family homeless simply because their house was half a hand too tall.”

Not even a smirk. Arthur rolled his eyes. Merlin could be such a child. Was he really going to hold such a tiny thing against him like this? And after Arthur went to all this trouble to feed him? Well, fine. Two could play at that game. “You’d best practice your own ability to keep your eyes open, _Mer_ lin. I expect you to be there serving me during these meetings, and nary a yawn will be tolerated. Oh, I know I could have you doing my myriad of other chores, and sure, the horses will probably come to miss you, but what if I get thirsty listening to my father and his advisors prattle on? And we both know you’re an expert at standing around doing nothing for hours.”

Perhaps he should jump on the table and start doing a jig? Maybe _that_ would catch the lazy lout’s attention?

With growing irritation, Arthur switched tactics once more. “Oh, and I proposed to Guinevere while you were off with Gaius earlier. I expect you to be the flower girl of course, or I’ll clap you in irons myself.”

Merlin startled so badly he nearly fell out of the chair.

_There we are._

“I’m sorry!” he squeaked, eyes wide with terror. “Don’t make me do it, _please_!”

Arthur cocked an eyebrow. “You know, I should be offended by that. But just to show you I can be the bigger person, I’m going to choose not to be. And what’s more, I’m not going to tell Guinevere you said it, which you had best remember next time I ask you for a favour. What on earth is wrong with you tonight?”

Merlin ducked his head quickly at his plate, colour rising in his pale cheeks. “Gwen? What about Gwen? Sorry, what were we talking about?”

“ _We_ weren’t talking about anything, _Mer_ lin, because _someone_ was refusing to participate in the conversation. Honestly, if I knew you were going to get into such a strop over this, I never would have agreed to this whole mess when Gaius suggested it.”

They both froze. Merlin just stared, his former confused terror quickly morphing into confused anger. Wait, that wasn’t right. Merlin had no reason to be mad at him. Arthur backtracked over his words in his mind, making sure he hadn’t said anything too incriminating. Nope. No, he was pretty sure he was fine.

“Agreed to _what_?” Merlin asked finally, his voice low and slightly shaky

“You know, the whole patrol thing. But come on. Sure, it didn’t work out entirely to plan, but the end results weren’t all bad. Everything turned out fine, didn’t it?”

“Everything… turned out _fine_?”

“It’s not like we could have foreseen a bridge washing out, for heaven’s sake! And we obviously avoided going that way so we wouldn’t risk running into that lot. But nothing happened! Gaius is fine, I didn’t have to find a new servant because mine decided to invite himself into an extended stay in a prison cell, and we gained a new weapon against sorcery. I call that a win, don’t you?”

“Gaius is fine?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Would you please stop repeating back parts of my side of this merry banter as questions, Merlin? It does start to get tedious and doesn’t actually serve to move the conversation along. Yes, Gaius is fine. He didn’t need your inept attempts at a rescue to save him from the bad guy, because it turned out there was no bad guy.”

“But you thought there might be.”

Well, at least it wasn’t a repeated question again. “We suspected, yes.”

“And so you, what? What exactly was this master plan of yours that didn’t happen exactly as it was supposed to, Arthur?”

If Arthur had been paying a bit more attention, he might have noticed the threatening tone underlying those words. But as he was sure he already knew the cause of Merlin’s unrest, he ploughed ahead unthinkingly. “Just as Gaius has already told you. We extended the patrol so you wouldn’t have the chance to muck up a rescue should Darius attempt to finish what Aredian started.”

“And if it did happen? If he did try? What would happen then? What would have happened to Gaius?”

Now was the point where Arthur was starting to get a hint that perhaps Merlin had not actually had a clue what he was talking about previous to him blurting it out (it was probably the fact that Merlin was now on his feet leaning with his fists clenched on the table that clued him in).

Unfortunately, now was also far _past_ the point of no return. Arthur ducked his head nervously, though he wasn’t sure why he had any reason to be apologetic about this. Did Merlin _want_ to be put in the dungeons? “Ehm, well, you see, Gaius and I were certain that was _not_ going to be the case. He’s a loyal subject. He had no reason to fear.” If Arthur realized he was simply repeating back Gaius’s own justifications, he did his best to ignore that.

“So you just left him! You left him to the mercy of Uther and a witchfinder. And what would you have done if we came back and once again he had been accused of being a sorcerer?”

Arthur rose to his feet as well, adopting the same battle pose. “In case it didn’t penetrate your thick skull last time, Gaius actually _is_ a sorcerer!”

The implications of that hit them both at the exact same moment. As Arthur slumped back into his chair, the fight drained out of him, Merlin sprinted from the room without waiting for a dismissal.


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin sprinted down the corridors.

He was trying not to think too hard about what Arthur had just told him, that he had been deliberately kept away so that in case Gaius had been condemned, he wouldn’t be around to try to stop it. Merlin wasn’t even that surprised really, after all Gaius had tried to get him to give up and leave him to die last time, too, when Aredian had been here. His guardian would do anything to keep him safe. He couldn’t even blame him, because he would do the same.

It didn’t mean he had to lie down and take it when Gaius decided it was his turn, however.

No, Merlin couldn’t worry about that right now, because his mind was far too busy panicking about the fact that Gaius, a sorcerer, was dining with Darius, the brother of the witchfinder who tortured him and nearly succeeded in having him killed, and King Uther, the biggest crusader against magic in the history of ever and who knew perfectly well that he was sharing his table with a man who had once practiced magic.

_Stupid stupid idiot!_

Arthur would probably laugh that Merlin used such uninspired insults on himself when he could certainly come up with much more creative ones for the prince, but in some twisted way he was pretty sure he deserved these simplified epithets. He had screwed up. He had screwed up in the biggest way he possibly could have. Merlin had been so focused on how this was going to affect himself he had completely forgotten that all this was going to affect Gaius just as much.

He had terrible feeling, however, that Gaius had not.

How could he have been so selfish? Usually he was the last person to consider himself before others. Why, he’d been willing to lay down his life for Arthur without a second thought after knowing him for barely a year when he was bitten by the questing beast. But then, Gaius had been willing to do the same for Merlin. Gaius was always looking after him.

Uther had always known about Gaius’s magic, of course. There was no way he couldn’t have. After all, they had known each other longer than Merlin had been alive. Which was the problem, of course, since before Merlin was alive Gaius would have been perfectly able to freely use his magic without fear of consequences. The only reason he was alive now was because he had agreed to stop, and Uther trusted he would never break that promise.

But clearly Uther’s trust only went so far. He had proved that when he showed he was willing to send his closest friend to death on the word of another. It had been obvious to anyone with eyes that Gaius’s confession had been coerced, yet he went ahead and condemned him anyway.

And now with this new poison, Uther didn’t have to trust Gaius. He could just make him drink it, and his problem would be solved. Gaius would never be able to do magic again.

Merlin honestly didn’t know if Gaius would do it without a fight. He hoped he wouldn’t. Much as he wanted someone to actually have the self-preservation that he lacked and give in to life threatening demands for once, he also did not want Gaius to have to give up that part of himself. Even if he didn’t use it as often now as Merlin did, at one point in his life, twenty-some years ago, it must have been as dear to him as breathing.

“Ah! Merlin!”

If Merlin could have made a list of things he didn’t want to want to deal with right now, this would have been at the top, right above an earthquake and plague.

“Merlin, dear, you’re just the person I was looking for. Could you please come with me?” Morgana swept down the corridor, cutting off any attempt at an escape route.

“ _Actually_ ,” he countered, his voice as hard as the diamonds that adorned her earlobes, “I was just on my way to see Gaius–”

Her vice-like grip on his arm said otherwise. “Oh, but that’s perfect. Gaius just went to go get me a remedy for my pain. I sent Gwen for it not too long ago. I’m afraid I ruined his meal. But Uther would never have let him stay when I needed something. Just as Arthur will never forgive you if you don’t come help me now. Don’t worry. It will only take a minute.”

She hauled him through the castle towards her rooms, throwing him inside and locking the door behind her.

“You knew about this, didn’t you?” she hissed.

Merlin gaped. “What? What do you mean I knew? How on earth would I know?”

“Arthur told you he was coming. That’s why you weren’t here. You were avoiding being here. You did something to keep yourselves out there.”

“That was his fault!” he snapped back. “He heard about that witchfinder’s brother and didn’t want anything to happen to me should Uther decide to throw Gaius to the wolves again.” Merlin realized he was putting Arthur in a much kinder light than he’d been willing to earlier, but his hackles were up. “If anything _you_ should have known! Uther tells you everything, and you were here this whole time. I’ve been out of the city for the last four days. I didn’t even know _that_ Darius was coming here, let alone _why_ he was coming until he was shoving that stuff down that poor woman’s throat.”

Merlin wasn’t sure if Morgana believed him, but she did let finally go of him at least.

“This is bad.”

Merlin rolled his eyes hard at the obviousness of that assessment ** _._ **Arthur’s _horse_ could have told her that.

“So long as that man is in the city, you will not leave my side. I don’t know what methods Aredian used, but this brother of his may have some way of finding me out. I will not take the chance of you whispering in his ear. But you wouldn’t do that, would you, Merlin?” she simpered. “Because you won’t take the chance of me letting slip _your_ little secret either, now will you? Which is why you won’t protest me asking Arthur to have you attend me for next little while that Master Darius is in Camelot. I’ve been confiding to Gwen after all that he makes me nervous and would appreciate having a male presence around to keep his lingering glances at bay. Uther would ask questions if I requested a knight escort, and I really don’t want to cause problems, not when Darius has been ever so helpful to us.”

Merlin glared daggers. Once again she had backed him into a corner with no means of escape. Of course Arthur would never let him out of protecting Morgana’s honour. In fact, Arthur would probably look at him askance if Merlin even so much as suggested another person would be better suited, since he held some misguided notion that Merlin had a crush on her. The only consolations he had were that at least Gwen would be around for most of the time and Darius couldn’t possibly be staying for much longer.

“The danger won’t leave with Darius,” he couldn’t help but remind her. “You’ll still have to hide yourself even after he’s gone.”

Her smirk was haughty, but her eyes were sad. “That’s not exactly _news_ , Merlin. Maybe if you’d let me take Uther down months ago, we wouldn’t be in this situation now.”

“And maybe if you’d listen to me, there might still be time for you to convince him to change his mind about magic.”

“Uther will never change his mind!” Morgana scoffed. “Look at Gaius! His best friend, yet he still sent him to the pyre without a second thought when it came to sorcery. No, it won’t matter to him that I’m– all that he’ll ever care about is that I’m a _witch_.”

As too often happened, Merlin felt a large chunk of his anger at Morgana recede and pity swept in. It was never hard to feel sad for her. Even if their situations seemed similar, both of them hiding their magics in the heart of Camelot, they could not be more different if they tried. While Merlin had had his mother to love and support him every step of the way and had Gaius now, even if both of them urged him in terror to keep himself as hidden as possible, Morgana had no one. No one but Merlin, and as a support system their relationship was flawed at best. Even Balinor, for all he hadn’t been in Merlin’s life until the end, had completely accepted Merlin for who he was. Morgana’s family, on the other hand, would see her hanged in an instant.

Well, she didn’t have _no one_. Now she had Morgause. Morgause who was feeding her lies and poisoning her mind of all hope for a better future.

Or maybe Uther had done that first, and Morgause was just capitalizing on it.

That was the problem. Merlin didn’t really know Morgana’s mind anymore, whether it could be won over again or not. Whether it ever could have been in the first place. Whether he wanted to try.

Part of him knew he shouldn’t. He’d been warned. Kilgharrah had given him numerous lectures on how Morgana was evil and dangerous and her continued life and growth of power meant nothing good for his and Arthur’s destiny. Yet every opportunity he’d had to kill her –when he’d poisoned her with the hemlock, when he’d startled her down the stairs and given her a fatal head trauma– he’d also saved her from. His own emotions towards her always seemed to get in the way.

But this, this new “cure,” this could be his way out. That woman hadn’t died. Darius had said the victims would live on, that Uther could do as he wished with them instead of killing them. If Morgana took it and lost her magic, she would no longer be this great enemy against Arthur, and Merlin wouldn’t have to kill her. He could have his cake and eat it too.

And then the cake would stab him with a dagger, but life couldn’t be perfect.

Merlin opened his mouth to respond, though he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to say back, when a knock on the door interrupted him.

“My lady? I’ve brought that tonic you sent me for.”

Morgana shot a hand out towards the door. “ _Aliese_ **,** ” she whispered, and there was a small click as the lock opened.

Merlin cocked an eyebrow. This was the first bit of deliberate magic she had done in front of him, despite them both knowing about her gifts. She just smirked back, seemingly pleased to have had a chance to show off her skills. Merlin refrained from telling her that particular spell wasn’t _that_ hard. But then, she’d only really been practicing for a little over a year, so some allowances had to be granted. He supposed he should take solace that the apocalypse Kilgharrah kept harping on about appeared to be far in the future.

“Enter, Gwen!” Morgana called.

Gwen opened the door, pausing on the threshold as she caught sight of Merlin, confusion on her face. “Oh. Ehm. Sorry. Good evening, Merlin. Was I interrupting something?”

“No, no, of course not,” Morgana brushed off her concerns, all traces of earlier animosity artfully wiped away. “I was just discussing with Merlin what we were taking about earlier with Darius. You know, with all that _leering_ I was noticing. He’s so kindly agreed to accompany us for the next few days if Arthur agrees to lend him to it, as I’m sure he will.”

Gwen beamed at him. “Really? Oh, Merlin, that’s so wonderful of you. I didn’t notice it, but I think he’s trying to avoid me seeing it so I can’t collaborate. Of course I would back up Lady Morgana’s claims anyway, but I’m afraid she’s right, we really can’t afford to make a fuss over it right now, not when the king’s so happy.”

Merlin forced a small smile that he was sure looked more like a grimace but was the best he could do after the day he’d had. Hopefully Gwen would interpret it as frustration over their inability to report Darius rather than well, pretty much anything else at this point. “Of course. I’m happy to help. If you’ll excuse me, I need to be going. I have to…” _Gaius or Arthur? Gaius or Arthur…?_ “I have some last few duties to attend to before I can turn in for the night.”

“Of course. We’ll see you tomorrow, Merlin. Bright and early.” Morgana laid a hand on his arm to lead him out, her clawed nails digging into his skin. Before she closed the door –softly, for the benefit of Gwen– in his face, she hissed, “And you might tell Gaius that I don’t need him to play the martyr for me, thank you all the same!”

* * *

The mood was not quite sombre as the diners sat down for the banquet sat out at the long table, but it was certainly subdued. Not much else could be expected when all the guests were late to middle aged. Perhaps if Arthur and Morgana were in attendance there might have been a few more smiles, but Gaius guessed not.

Just as he had told Merlin, they were not to be here. Arthur, of course, had been taken care of easily. Uther had invited him, and Gaius had known there had been a chance he would. Even if Arthur was exhausted (which he undoubtedly was), he had been trained from a young age to hide that fatigue behind a mask of court graces. Yes, he was better at it some times than others, but usually when he was in front of company and not just his father he succeeded more times than not and Uther knew it. However, since they had not called the effort off yet, Arthur was continuing with their plan to keep Merlin away from the witchfinder’s relation, so he had automatically turned down the invitation, claiming a need for an early night.

Morgana had been slightly more difficult. Uther loved showing off his beloved ward, so while Arthur might get away with not attending, crown prince or not, Morgana’s attendance was practically mandatory. So Gaius had had to get a bit creative. And unfortunately, he had had to simply hope Morgana was willing to go along with his creativity. Spouting off to Uther about some kind of “womanly trauma” –well, really those were all the words it had taken for Uther to hold up his hands and declare he didn’t need to hear any more about it. Gaius had then caught Gwen in the laundry room and sent her to Morgana with a willow bark remedy for pain, claiming Morgana had called for it and to tell her Uther had agreed it was perfectly alright that she not dine with him, Darius, and the physician tonight.

He was sure Morgana would know exactly what he had done, but he only hoped the girl was smart enough not to raise a fuss about it, at least not in anyone’s hearing but his.

So far she hadn’t, which meant she and Merlin were safe. That was how it should be. Gaius knew how these things worked. In time, the axe must fall on at least one of them, and he was determined that it be him. He had lived a long life. His charges were still young. They still had so much to learn, so much to explore. He had given all this up before either of them was even born. They didn’t deserve this. If one of them must fall, then let it be him.

After all, it would be him eventually. Gaius was no fool. He and Uther were friends, yes, just as Merlin and Arthur were. Uther had not killed him when he passed the decree that outlawed the practice of sorcery on punishment of death, excluding him just so: for the practice of magic.

_“Gaius, you know I trust you above all others, but I cannot allow this to continue! Sorcery… it corrupts. I can’t let that happen to you. Please, I’m begging you. You were there; you saw what happened with Nimueh. She never would have let that happen to Ygraine, not if something hadn’t been tainting her. Please, just promise me you won’t use it anymore.”_

And Gaius hadn’t. Well, so far as Uther knew. He actually _had_ gone twenty long years without calling on his magic. Not that he hadn’t wanted to, especially in the beginning. Gaius had never exactly been an expert at the art, but a bit of the gift had eased things along. In the days following the ban he’d found himself subconsciously reaching for his magic only to have to tamp down on the urge, frantically looking around to see if anyone had noticed.

The first time in twenty years that he had called on his magic and let the spell finish had been when a gangly young boy had walked in his door and gotten himself poisoned by the very person who’d forced Gaius to stop using his magic in the first place.

It’d been the most terrifying and exhilarating experience of his life.

But that same gangly boy provided enough terrifying experiences without Gaius contributing to them –as he seemed to all too often, unfortunately. He’d only had to do magic of his own once more, and quite recently. That hadn’t been an exhilarating moment. Perhaps because it had been because he’d been destroying a creature which was enslaving his former fiancé. But perhaps it was a sign that his time for sorcery was past, and now was the moment for him to give it up for good.

As expected, much of the conversation revolved around Darius’s research. He had been conducting it formerly on the behalf of his brother –“Though of course I didn’t know what he was up to at the time. Dreadful business. I suppose all that chasing of sorcerers, one of them must have gotten to him.” Darius refused to reveal what had led him to his secret formula, though he promised it was safe. “Even if an innocent is wrongfully accused, you may give them the potion with fear of repercussions. Why, you could issue it as standard for all crimes! A fine and a draught!”

“How… humanitarian of you,” Gaius managed mildly, and hoping it was mild enough not to raise the ire of the king.

Darius nodded gravely. “Aredian and I agreed on many things, but we disagreed on many more. One major point being the manner in which the crime of sorcery should be dealt with. Oh, we agreed, it is a heart- and soul-blackening crime to be sure, and Aredian was a prime example of that. Why, just his life’s passion of bringing the perpetrators of the foul deed to justice brought him too close, tainting him enough to drive him to madness. But I have always believed that if we could only drive out the beast, we could save the poor creatures that have been enslaved by sorcery. If we can prevent it from ever harming them again, then perhaps there is hope that one day we can all be safe from the evils of magic.”

“Well said, Darius. Well said,” Uther beamed. He raised his goblet. “I would like to propose a toast to that future. It will be a glorious day indeed. And thanks to your cure, so much closer than any of us could have ever foreseen.”

Gaius wasn’t sure how he kept his hand from shaking as he toasted with them. He was sure the question of when he would take this “cure” was sure to come up. He wouldn’t even be surprised if Darius knew that he was the sorcerer his brother had been killed trying to accuse. Just because he was willing to go through with this didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous about it. He just wanted to get it over with. Why couldn’t Uther just slap a bottle down and demand he take it already?

There was a soft knock, and the large doors to the room creaked open, interrupting any further conversation. Gwen crept anxiously towards the table, curtseying deeply. “I’m so sorry, my lord. I need to borrow Gaius. Lady Morgana needs some more of the pain tonic he brought her earlier. She sends her apologies as well.”

“But of course. Gaius?” Uther nodded in dismissal.

Gaius rose, inclining his head respectfully to the king, and slightly less respectfully to Darius. He made certain not to let his confusion show. It seemed Morgana was choosing now of all times to have her confrontation with him. He hoped she would at least dismiss Gwen first. It wasn’t fair to ask her to keep these secrets. It already wasn’t fair to him or Merlin, not that Morgana cared, from the way she was blackmailing Merlin.

Gwen hurried along beside him, babbling in his ear. “I do hope you can help her. It must be the lack of sleep. I wish there were something you could do for her nightmares, though I don’t fault you for that, of course, you know I don’t, I know you’ve done everything you can. She says they’ve been getting better, but I think she’s just saying that so I don’t feel sorry for her. I mean, I’m sure she must be dreaming about that witch who took her. She was gone so long, Gaius, there’s no telling what she or those ruffians did to her. She’s so lucky she had a chance to escape.”

Gwen sat on a bench while Gaius prepared the unnecessary tonic. Gaius kept half an ear on her chatter in case at some point she actually expected a reply. Her tone become quieter as she continued. “She’s changed, it’s clear she has. I try not to point it out though, because it’s also clear she doesn’t want me or anyone else to notice it. But how could she not have changed, after all she went through? It’s most clear when she’s around Merlin. She doesn’t treat him the same anymore. Nor does he her. I think part of it, at least on his end has to do with the fact that he was the last one to see her before she was taken. You know Merlin. I’m sure he wonders what he could have done to stop it from happening. Morgana… I don’t think she holds it against him, not exactly, I think she just doesn’t know how to act around him anymore, nor any of us, really, but him especially for some reason.”

Gaius was glad that he could show his full sadness for her words without raising any undue suspicion. “To tell the truth, I’m not sure Merlin knows how to act around her anymore either,” he sighed. “You’re right, my dear. Things have changed.” _If only you knew how much._ “We can only hope that something will change for the better, and soon.”

“Yes… here’s hoping…” she took the potion bottle from his hand. “Well, thank you for this. I’m so sorry to ruin your meal. I’m sure Morgana wouldn’t have sent me if she hadn’t really have needed it.”

“I’m sure. Will that be all? Does Morgana not wish me to come inspect her?”

“Oh no, she said not to bother you. It’s been a long day. She’s planning on turning in after I deliver this. You should get some rest, too. You look worn.” She gave him a concerned smile and left, closing the door gently behind him.

The door was thrown open twenty minutes later by a panicked Merlin. “Gaius, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please tell me that he didn’t– that you didn’t–”

Gaius sighed wanly. “No, Merlin. He didn’t ask me to take it. I still have my magic.”

“I shouldn’t have left you there. I should have– I have to–”

“Merlin, we’ve been over this. There’s nothing you could have done. There’s nothing you _can_ do. Not right now. We just have to wait and see.”

“Oh, is that what you were doing?” Merlin shouted. “Waiting and seeing? Even _Arthur_ figured what was going to happen to you tonight! Whatever happened to ‘Don’t throw yourself into the flames, Merlin!’ ‘We can’t be hasty, Merlin!’ ‘Don’t panic, just _breathe,_ Merlin!’”

Gaius laid a hand on his ward’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, my boy. But I’m afraid it will happen eventually. My magic is not a secret. It is not me we are trying to save here. It is too late for that. We must put all our efforts into protecting you.”

Merlin lifted his chin stubbornly. “No. We’re both going to get through this. Unless and until Uther makes you drink that stuff in front of his eyes, I’m not going to let you just give yourself up. Uther has trusted you not to use magic all this time. We have to believe he’ll trust you enough to take the poison without him watching, if he makes you at all. Promise me you won’t do it.” Gaius hesitated. “ _Promise me_ , Gaius.”

Gaius hung his head, but a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. Ah, the tenacity of the young. “I promise, Merlin.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

Merlin left him there to go wallow over the situation in his room, remembering desperately when his biggest problem was a sore backside and crick in his spine. They were still troubling him now, but there was no way he could go back out there to ask Gaius for help now. Perhaps he had been a bit harsh in his demands, but he could not regret them.

Because for once Morgana had been right. He was not willing to allow Gaius to be a martyr for him, either.


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin was going to collect every coin of his pay for the next ten years and spend it on gifts for Gwen. If it weren’t for her, he would have gone mad within the first ten minutes of his new “assignment.”

He hadn’t even left his room to go fetch Arthur’s breakfast when another servant came to inform him of his orders to report to Morgana instead. Someone else would attend to Arthur today. The servant bore a note from the prince detailing the situation Morgana had falsified yesterday. It left explicit instructions to come to him if Darius even looked like he wanted to _try_ anything untoward. Merlin had just rolled his eyes as he crumpled the note once the servant left. He didn’t know if Darius even cared about Morgana –beyond her being a sorceress, but he was fairly certain the man didn’t know about that– but even if he _was_ harassing her, Morgana was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

Merlin obeyed, however, because he had no choice, which Morgana had been well aware of when she came up with her plan. She took great joy in giving Gwen tasks that sent her away for brief periods of time, leaving the two of them alone. She never said anything to him, never did anything. She just sat on her side of the room, revelling in the knowledge that she knew what was going on in her head and he didn’t.

When Gwen was there, however, she took great pains to engage Merlin in conversation, joking about Arthur, asking about their long patrol, teaching him how to complete several of his chores more efficiently. She made sure not to leave Morgana out, drawing her into the conversation as well, often leading into stories with phrases like “I was thinking the other day about that time that we…” or “Do you remember when we all…” Almost as if she were desperately trying to bring back some sense of normalcy between them. Merlin felt bad for her. It was obvious she wasn’t fooled that everything was sunshine and roses between him and Morgana, and she just wanted her friends to all be happy.

Merlin just hoped she wouldn’t tell Arthur.

“I do believe I would fancy a trip to the markets.” Morgana announced suddenly. “Don’t you think today’s a lovely day to walk down to the lower town, Merlin?”

Merlin nodded stiffly, though luckily he’d just been chatting with Gwen while they sat side by side working together on various mending projects –Arthur’s replacement servant had stopped by to drop off a large pile of hole-filled shirts –so at least his grin wasn’t completely fake. “Sounds like fun. I can pick up some things for Gaius.”

“Two birds with one stone then! Shall we?”

Merlin didn’t bother to point out he might need to stop and ask Gaius what he needed to be bought. Or that he didn’t have any money on him to buy it with. Everyone in the market knew him, but that got him mixed results. Some of the merchants saw him as an adorable lost puppy whom they invited into their homes and gave free treats and left in charge of their stalls while they ran off for a few minutes. Others saw him as a scruffy rapscallion who couldn’t be trusted as far as they could throw him, and they chased him away with brooms if he so much as appeared in the street near their stalls.

He tried to subliminally steer them away from those vendors. The last thing he needed was Morgana latching onto one of them like a tick, insisting on using her charm to talk to them for the next hour while cooing over their merchandise or their children, keeping Merlin pinned to her side with her claws and subjecting him to both her venom and theirs. He could only handle so much poison at a time.

But luckily Gwen did her best to be a buffer again here, taking Morgana by the arm and leading her through the stalls, girl-talk flowing freely between them. Merlin was momentarily forgotten as they visited all of their favourite places. Everything went without incident until they reached a fabric stall Merlin himself was actually familiar with himself as the proprietor –a woman about his mother’s age named Astrid –sold them their bandages.

She was also one of the ones who looked on him like an adorable lost puppy.

Astrid smiled at them as they approached. “Good morning, my lady! Gwen, Merlin. How can I help you today?”

“We’re just here to look for now, dear Astrid,” Morgana beamed back, picking up and admiring a few pieces. “Although I’m sure I’ll find something of yours I won’t be able to resist!” She winked coyly.

Luckily Astrid kept her attention from him, deciding it was best to focus on the noble of the group, chatting away amiably with Lady Morgana.

“Lady Morgana, I know this may seem presumptuous of me to ask, but I have been hearing some strange tales. Is it true there was a visitor at the castle yesterday?”

He felt himself stiffen at her words. Frankly he was surprised no one had thought to try a side-long attempt to ask before this, but then Astrid had always been bit braver about addressing taboo topics than others.

“There was.” Morgana’s voice was as taut as his body.

“And is it true it had something to do with magic?”

“Yes.”

“They’re saying… My lady, they’re saying this man has the power to take away a person’s ability to do magic. But how can this be so?”

Morgana seemed to be hesitating, as if unsure how much information she could get away with revealing. But Astrid wasn’t a spy or a gossip. She heard things, yes, because that was how you got by, learning about things before they came to get you, but she didn’t spread them around, especially if she was told not to.

“He has a potion. I don’t know how it works, but he gave a demonstration. Once you take it, you no longer are able to perform magic.” If Merlin was feeling more charitable he might have been impressed by her ability to so coolly describe a situation that had had him near hyperventilating in front of the entire court and thrust him into several more panic attacks since him.

“Does that mean the executions will stop?”

“I don’t know. I believe the king and his council are meeting to discuss just that. I’m sorry, you’ll have to wait and see. Please don’t repeat that until the king makes an announcement, of course.”

“Don’t worry, my lady. My son always said I’ve a mind like a snare. What goes in doesn’t come back out until I want it to. Coincidently, when do you think that will be?”

“I’m not sure. Within the week I would assume. The king will want to advance the fight against magic as quickly as possible.” Morgana picked up a long length of green fabric. “I think I’ll purchase this today, Astrid. It will be a lovely cloak, don’t you think, Gwen?”

It was a clear message that the conversation was closed. Astrid took it.

“And how about you, Merlin? Does Gaius need more stock? You haven’t been down in a while if I remember correctly. Really, you ought to come by more often, even if it’s just to visit. No one needs to be having a crisis for you to be making a social call, you know.” Astrid patted him admonishingly on the arm. She had always said he reminded her of her own son, who died when the Afanc poisoned the water supply.

“I’m sorry, Astrid,” Merlin ducked his head, as much in guilt over her chiding as to avoid meeting Morgana’s hidden glare. “I’ve been busy. You know, lots of work for Prince Arthur and all. Gaius, too, with his tasks for the king.”

“Oh, of course, love, I understand. In fact, you stay right here for a moment. I’ll be right back. Just take a look around at everything. I’m sure you have a young lady friend hiding somewhere who’d appreciate one of my scarves. Gwen and Lady Morgana will help you find one. Back before you know it.”

She hurried off into the little house behind the stall, ignoring how Merlin was turning twenty shades of mottled red in her wake, stammering muttered protests. Gwen and Morgana were tittering at his embarrassment.

“Well, come on, Merlin,” Morgana snickered. “Tell us, what colour does she like best?”

He was running out of the energy to fight with her. He threw out the first colour that came to mind. “Purple.”

The girls pawed through the scraps of fabric, taking joy in his obvious discomfort, though Gwen’s was much more of a good-natured variety. The maid handed him an elegant piece of deep violet silk. “How about this one, Merlin?”

“Oh, yes, Merlin. She’ll look like a princess.”

It didn’t matter that Morgana hadn’t even meant the comment to be nasty, possibly for the first time since her return. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know the significance of what she’d said. It even didn’t matter that once upon a time, in an alternate world where Merlin didn’t have to keep every detail of his life a secret, Morgana probably would have been first in line to comfort him when Freya died.

All that mattered was that Merlin’s rope had been a few strands away from snapping, and Morgana’s words were the final blow.

He opened his mouth to let forth a well-deserved torrent, regardless of the consequences, but Astrid returned in that moment, holding forth a small jar.

“In there’s a new healing balm I’ve discovered recently. I’ve found it works very well, for wounds old and new. See that Gaius gets it, would you love? Is that the scarf you picked out? You can take it for payment; I’m sure your young flower will adore it. Be sure to bring her by sometime soon so I can see it on her!”

Trapped, Merlin swallowed around his constricted throat and nodded jerkily, gripping the jar and scarf woodenly.

Seriously, when did this whole smiling thing get so hard?

“Make it soon, though. I’m afraid my brother out in the country has been hounding me even more fiercely to move in with him recently. Ever since my Boen died, it’s been getting harder. Then with the dragon, and those attacking skeletons, well… It may be best to give in to his demands.”

“We’ll certainly miss you,” Gwen assured her. “I’m not sure I could ever leave Camelot, however mad it got here. I’ve lived here so long; it’s my home no matter what it’s put me through. I think you’re brave to even be considering a new start.”

The girls said their goodbyes, and Merlin accepted a kiss on the cheek. Morgana decided that had been enough for the morning, so they headed back to the castle to eat and rest.

Gwen dropped back and sidled up to his side as they walked, placing a hand on his arm in concern and whispering, “Is everything alright? We didn’t mean to tease so much. I’m sorry if it bothered you. You don’t have to keep the scarf. I’ll sneak it into Morgana’s things later so Astrid won’t feel bad about you not accepting it. She has so many already; she won’t notice one more. I mean– I don’t mean to imply I don’t think you have someone to give it to, or you couldn’t have someone, it’s just, you looked so uncomfortable, I thought that–”

“I’m fine,” he replied harshly, being sure to keep his voice low as well. The crease in Gwen’s forehead deepened, un-reassured by his tone. “I mean… I’m sorry, Gwen. It’s just been a rough few days. I’m fine, really. Just tired.”

Now at least the lines smoothed out a bit. “I’ll see if I can’t convince Morgana to do something in an area you won’t have to accompany us to later so you can have a rest, like watch the knights on the practice field. Even Arthur won’t be able to protest, since he’ll be right there himself. Really, you shouldn’t have had to come here. Darius is up at the castle all day, and it’s not like he would have done anything in this crowd anyway.”

Of course, Merlin knew that wasn’t the point of this little exercise, but he appreciated her efforts. He gave her a real smile, his first in a while, even if it was just a small twitch of his lips upwards. “Thanks, Gwen.”

She reached out to take the scarf from him, but he jerked it away, clutching it closer to his side. “No… I think I’ll keep it.”

Gwen’s eyes brightened in surprise and delight. “So there is someone!”

“One day I’ll tell you all about it, I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that, Merlin. I swear, you won’t be rid of me from now on until I get an introduction.”

Merlin was glad Morgana called Gwen up to walk beside her for a moment so that she couldn’t see the tears in his eyes as he murmured, “Good to know.”

* * *

Arthur stood by his father while he waited for him to hush the crowd for the announcement. Oddly he seemed to be in no rush, despite the gravity of his proclamation. Instead he was once again deep in conversation with Darius. About what Arthur didn't care to fathom.

He wished he had someone to talk to. Normally he would have Merlin for the job, but he was across the balcony, chattering away instead with Morgana and Guinevere. The prince had been furious when Morgana had come to him late last night with her tales of Darius's wandering eyes. He'd wanted to run the man through on the spot, or at least bring the matter to his father, but Morgana would have none of it. She would not put the deal at risk for her sake, even if it wasn’t technically her fault. So then Arthur had suggested an escort, someone who would least be there to make sure the man wouldn't try anything. He, of course, wanted to nail a knight to her side, but she put her foot down. In the end they had agreed upon Merlin. While the scrawny servant wasn't intimidating by half, if something happened, he could at least stay with her while Guinevere came to find Arthur, or vice versa.

Frankly, Arthur was glad for the excuse to be rid of Merlin. After last night, he wasn't sure what to say to him. They'd never discussed Gaius being a sorcerer before. He wondered if Merlin had known before the ordeal with the witchfinder. After all, Arthur had been close to Gaius his entire life, and he'd never known. Never even suspected. In fact, he'd thought it absurd. Yet it was not only true, but his father kept him as a respected member of the royal household.

_"Gaius is not a practicing sorcerer. He saw what evils the craft of sorcery can do to a person, and he renounced it. He has never given me any reason not to trust him."_

Nor had he given Arthur one, but it was clear where Merlin stood on the matter. Gaius could have currently been using his magic to drown kittens in the river for all the boy cared. He would defend his guardian to the death.

Which, of course, was exactly what he and Gaius had been trying to prevent these last few days by taking Merlin out of Camelot. Arthur was realizing now how spectacularly he had failed at that. Even more so now that he had given Merlin his task of "looking after" Morgana. The reason for his standing guard was bound to make him even more testy towards Darius, since Merlin now would feel he had to defend both Gaius and Morgana from the man.

Arthur hesitated in his place. Perhaps he should go warn Morgana that she was actually babysitting Merlin, not the other way around.

Uther finally pulled away from Darius, beaming down at the gathered populace. Most of them already suspected why they were there of course. Gossip amongst the servants travelled fast. It would have reached much of the lower town by sundown, especially once it hit the taverns. Then it had had all morning besides to spread. Not that that had ever stopped Uther before. His motto had ever been why settle for a monocle when you can make a spectacle?

"My fellow citizens of Camelot. I am sure you have heard by now the rumours that we have recently made great strides in the fight against sorcery! I am here today to confirm for you that the rumours are true. No longer need we fear the evils of sorcery stealing away the souls of our loved ones. Now we can win them back! With only a single dose of this cure they need never fear to be taken over by the scourge of magic again. My dear people, I present to you the miracle we have been waiting for."

Arthur fought the urge to roll his eyes at his father's evangelical zeal. Really, he doubted he was this eloquent when he had been presenting him to the people as the crown prince when he was born -actually that was probably true since his mother had just died. But really, it wasn't _that_ great. It wasn't like it could point the sorcerers out for you, which would truly be a useful thing.

Also, Uther seemed to be carefully leaving out during his little moment of triumph the fact that anyone caught using sorcery now would be forced to drink this wonderful miracle potion and could only stay with their family on one condition: if they agreed to go with them when they were sold into slavery.

The emergency council meeting had been held bright and early so they could have this public gathering in the afternoon. That they had come to an agreement so quickly had surprised Arthur more than he'd thought possible. In fact, it had taken less than three hours discussion. A few of the older men had had qualms about killing men they deemed to now be defenceless. The younger ones were morally against the idea of slavery. The whole meeting looked like it wasn’t going to work, until someone remembered Darius's suggestion to sell them elsewhere and then the cogs got turning. 

It seemed the one thing everyone _could_ agree on was money, and it turned out a former sorcerer and his exiled family were worth quite a bit of gold.

Arthur was certain that his father was not considering selling Gaius now any more than he’d been considering killing him a little over twenty years ago. He was also certain Gaius knew that. Merlin, on the other hand… Arthur sighed resignedly to himself. Was his job of saving Merlin from himself ever going to end?

It appeared he was about to find out.

“Of course, sorcery is a pernicious beast. We do not expect it to roll over in the face of adversity. Thus, while there will be no more executions in punishment for the crime of the use of magic, those found guilty will be sold as slaves to the highest bidder to our neighbouring kingdoms. Family members wishing to remain with them may accompany. We must stand firm. It is our hope that today marks a turning point we can look back on and celebrate in the very near future!”

Murmurs rose quickly from the crowd as the king ended as his speech to a smattering of applause that tried to sound more than half-hearted. Luckily he didn’t seem to notice, back to talking with Darius again. Arthur turned back to Merlin, and just as expected, he looked deeply upset. He wasn’t the only one. Morgana looked furious, Guinevere disturbed. They withdrew from the balcony quickly. Merlin glanced at him as they left, a strange glint in his eyes Arthur couldn’t decipher. There was an odd bit of steel in them.

Arthur groaned. Great. Was this another thing Merlin was unfairly angry with him about? This wasn’t _his_ fault. None of it had been. It had been Gaius’s idea to keep him away from Darius’s visit in the first place. It had been the rest of the council’s idea to sell the cured sorcerers into slavery to neighbouring kingdoms. And technically speaking, it had been Gaius’s choice to do sorcery in the first place twenty years ago, and he if hadn’t, Merlin wouldn’t even have a reason to care about this whole thing, so if Merlin wanted to blame anyone, most of the blame here for this entire mess should go on Gaius, not on Arthur, so there.

Arthur realized that maybe he was being a bit childish, but with Merlin upset with him to some degree for the past five days, he hadn’t had anyone to talk to in ages, so he thought he could be excused.

He found himself aimlessly following his father and Darius, only half listening as they returned to Uther’s chambers for drinks. Loathe as Arthur was to spend more time around the witchhunter’s brother, at least if he had an eye on him he would know that the man wasn’t anywhere near Morgana to be leering at her, and Merlin wasn’t anywhere near him to be doing anything stupid.

“-thing is, by the time you get to the execution, the damage has already been done. You currently only identify your sorcerers because of their heinous acts. Would it not be better to stop them before they occur?”

“Of course that would wonderful, but what would you suggest?”

“As I said before, my cure is entirely harmless to those who have never done an act of magic in their life. We all have the potential for sorcery within us. The potion wipes away that potential. Make it mandatory for every citizen.”

Uther shook his head. “I’m afraid it would never work. The people would never comply. Just as a kingdom-wide ban against sorcery forces those who wish to continue to practice to such evil regardless into hiding, a compulsory taking of the potion would only force those who wished to refuse to simply hide that they hadn’t. It would take far too many resources to travel door to door and physically check each citizen.”

Darius smiled over the brim of his goblet. “Ah. Actually, I think I have a solution for you there.”


	5. Chapter 5

On the bright side, Merlin remembered to keep breathing this time.

Slavery. That was the life that awaited him now. Magicless and a slave.

How could this be happening? Was this the grand future of his destiny? How could he bring magic back to the land if he could no longer use it himself? How would Arthur live long enough to become the great king he was meant to be if Merlin couldn't use his magic to protect him?

There, that was the way to stop this. Why hadn't he thought of it before? He should just march up to Uther and say, “By the way, I know I'm a sorcerer, but I'm also pretty much your son's personal bodyguard, so please don't take my magic away.”

Yeah right. He'd probably simply end up an enslaved sorcerer. 

But at least he'd get to keep his magic.

Uther wouldn’t sell Gaius. That’s what Merlin kept telling himself. He may know about his magic, and he may make him take the poison to stop him from ever using it again, but he would never sell him. Of course, if he did, Merlin would go with him, even if his own sorcery were never found out, destiny be hanged. Gaius would protest, and he and Arthur might conspire again to try and lock him up to keep him from doing it, but Merlin would not let them take him away.

He’d left him last night. He would not do it again.

He wasn’t the only one disturbed by the announcement. Gwen and Morgana had also been visibly upset, and once they had returned to Morgana’s chambers, she let loose a tirade of epic proportions. Despite the volume of her outburst, Merlin wasn’t worried about a stray servant overhearing and passing on her words to less sympathic ears. In fact, Merlin had a feeling Uther was going to hear a reprise of the rant straight from the source later tonight.

With the hidden sorceress in such a mood, Merlin nearly had a girlish swoon when Arthur came for him just as Gwen was about to leave to get the evening meal. It turned out he couldn’t put up with his temporary replacement servant even for the rest of the day, or the man was going to drive him mad. Darius was dining with the king and then he should retire for the night, everything should be fine for now, he wanted Merlin back.

Morgana had snapped that he was a spoiled brat. Arthur had yelled back that she hadn’t wanted Merlin around in the first place. The prince won, because while he was perfectly willing to admit that he was indeed spoiled, Morgana was _not_ willing to admit that she had alternative motives for Merlin’s presence.

“Fine. Am I to expect him back tomorrow?”

“No, it won’t be necessary. Darius is leaving in the morning.” For some reason Arthur looked strangely uncomfortable about that.

“Leaving? So they worked out a deal for the potion? Or has he given the recipe to Gaius so he can make more when Uther uses everything he’s given him within the week?”

“He’s given us everything he has. There won’t be any need for more. I’m sure you’ll be hearing about it soon. Goodnight, Morgana. Guinevere.”

Arthur turned on his heel and left, and Merlin followed quickly behind, his elation at getting out of the last few hours of the day tempered by Arthur’s odd attitude.

“Go and get my meal from the kitchens. I didn’t bother to send that last imbecile for it. I swear, he was even less competent than you.”

The insult felt a lot more insulting than normal, taking Merlin aback as he cut to the side to make his way to the kitchens. Something had obviously happened while he was with the Gwen and Morgana. Something that had gotten Arthur in a foul mood. Seeing as he had been so enthusiastic about the poison –curative potion, in his mind– last night, Merlin didn’t think it was that. Darius hadn’t done anything to Morgana; Merlin had been by her side all day, after all, to ensure that her unthreatened honour remained un-endangered. And even beyond that, he was leaving tomorrow; wasn’t that great news for everyone?

The part about Darius giving over his entire stock of the poison and them not having a need for any more was a bit troubling, but in the scheme of things, it was a minor problem, really.

Merlin eyed the still steaming slices of bread on the plate as he carried it to Arthur’s chambers. The prince wouldn’t notice if he filched a couple of pieces, surely. He would just be doing him a favour, helping him keep in shape. Before he could convince himself otherwise, he was licking the crumbs off his fingers and enjoying the slightly more full feeling of his stomach.

“Good, you’re back, finally. Well, set it down then.”

There would be no invitation to join tonight. Good thing he had already helped himself.

Merlin set about straightening the room while Arthur ate. Not that there was much to do. The replacement –he wished he knew the name; he just didn’t have that much time to actually spend with the other servants other than Gwen– had done it all earlier, and much more thoroughly than Merlin would have ever done. He had expected as much. When Arthur said “less competent,” what he usually meant was simply “not you,” so Merlin never complained. It was nice to be missed.

“I’m sorry.” Arthur said suddenly, startling Merlin, and not just because Arthur was actually apologizing. “Last night… I didn’t mean to imply that I thought Gaius was anything like the rest of those sorcerers.”

Merlin remained silent, not wanting to stick his foot in his mouth. He should just accept this apology. The thought was in the right place. Arthur thought Gaius was a good person. Arthur didn’t like that he’d hurt Merlin by possible implying otherwise. End of story.

There was no way for him to know that’s not what Merlin heard.

“I know… My father told me that he gave it all up because he didn’t want to fall into evil. It’s only the ones who practice magic that we have to worry about. The ones who flout the law day in and day out. Because they’re selfish, because the magic has cast a shadow on them, because they’re depraved from the start, I don’t know. But I know that’s not Gaius. So does my father. I want you to rest assured that we would never think about sending him into slavery, not for a moment.”

_What about me? Would you send me?_

The only thing he could manage was “Gaius will always be loyal to you.”

Arthur grinned, apparently pleased he’d smoothed things over. “Gaius will always be loyal to _you_. I swear, he’d throw me bodily off the battlements if I let you so much as cut your finger on the parchment of my speeches.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “More likely he’d drown me for my own stupidity.”

The prince quickly sobered again. “Yes… ehm… you can take this down to the kitchens, then you’re dismissed for the night. As I said, you don’t have to report to Morgana tomorrow; Darius will be leaving after breakfast. Which I will be taking with him and Father, but there will be no need for you to join us. Instead go and make sure my armour and weapons are ready for training.”

For a moment Merlin thought about being upset that Arthur was still trying to protect him by keeping him away from Darius, but then he decided to just accept it for once. Taking the tray, he returned it to a scullery maid then made his way back to Gaius for the first time that whole day, ready to just flop on his bed and forget he ever woke up.

“Merlin! What’s the last thing you ate and drank, tell me now!”

Merlin reeled back as Gaius flew into his face the instant he came through the door, gripping him tightly by the shoulders. “Ehm, I don’t know… a bit of bread from Arthur’s plate? Why?”

“Good, okay, that’s alright, that’s fine, that would have been old. Nothing to drink?” Merlin shook his head. “Good. Good boy. Now see this bucket? Once everyone is asleep, you need to take it and go to the streams and fill it. Don’t even try to pretend to me you don’t have a way to do it. Then you are to drink from nothing but this barrel and eat nothing but what I prepare for you, do you understand?”

“Gaius, what on earth is going on?”

Gaius wiped his face tiredly. “Uther decided that waiting until he caught a person using sorcery wasn’t going to cut it. He sent someone down to the reservoirs with the entire stock of that wretched man’s ‘cure’ and dumped it in. Anyone who drinks from the water supply will have their potential for magic rendered inert.”

Merlin froze. So this was it. This was what Arthur was so on edge about. He would never agree to such a thing.

“How can he do that?” he croaked finally. “Won’t the people riot or something when they find out they’ve been forced to take it against their will?”

“Actually, I think many of the people will be grateful,” Gaius corrected, sitting on a bench and motioning for Merlin to sit opposite. “Before they still risked being turned in by others and sold. This way they’re safe. There’s no chance they could have done magic, because within a week or two, everyone will have run out of whatever supply they had in their homes if they use the pump –which of course nearly everyone does– and their magic will be gone. In the end Uther comes out looking like a hero. No more executions and minimal human trafficking.”

“But what about the people who want to keep their magic!? What will they do?”

Gaius laid a hand gently on his forearm. “I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do. Not without knowing how to stop Darius’s formula, and we can’t do that without knowing what it is and how it works. I asked, one scientist to another, but I was told that it was a secret recipe, and that he couldn’t possibly divulge it at this juncture. Money grubbing man probably just thought I wanted to copy him so Uther wouldn’t buy from him anymore. We can try taking a sample of the water and working with that, but there would be no way to test it.

“The only comfort we can take is that quite a few people stopped getting their water from the reservoir after the Afanc incident. Years later and many of them still don’t trust it. They, too, will be getting their water from the stream. Unfortunately while that’s not unusual for them, it would be extremely odd for us, so you will have to take care not to be seen. When I heard what was happening I quickly gathered a barrel-full for us from the well, but that won’t last forever.”

At the mention of the Afanc, Merlin remembered his errand from earlier. It all seemed so unimportant now. “I saw Astrid earlier. She told me to give you this. Said it was a new healing balm.”

Astrid, who was leaving soon to join her brother in the country. Lucky Astrid. Hopefully she would get out of the city before she ran out of her own water supply. He had no clue if the woman had magic of her own, but he hated the idea that the choice might be made for her.

Thinking of Astrid now also made him think of Freya. Fingering the scarf shoved deep in his pocket, he couldn’t help but think how much she would have loved to have the magic that had been placed upon her lifted. If she’d still been alive, he might have poured the vile liquid in her mouth himself to save her.

How many others in the lower town were like Freya, wishing to be free of the curse of magic? How many believed they were monsters, as she and Merlin had for so much of their lives, because that’s all they’d ever been told? How many would be grateful that it was gone?

But how many would fight for freedom if only they knew they had a right to want to be free?

Gaius wasn’t even paying attention to his deep contemplation. Instead he was examining the contents of the jar with a sad, bemused look on his face. “I’ll move this to another container and take the jar back to Astrid tomorrow.”

“Yeah, fine.” Merlin replied absentmindedly. He went to go pick up the bucket. He was too worked up to wait any longer to leave the castle. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Be careful, my boy. The last thing I want is to keep your magic but lose you.”

* * *

Merlin left the bucket by the stream. He would come back and fill it later. For now it would just be extra weight he didn’t need. He walked casually through the forest, taking his time. He didn’t normally start out this early. There was no need to run. Running would just get his blood pumping, and the last thing he needed right now was more adrenaline.

What he really needed was a nap, but he’d been waiting for that for about four years now, so he wasn’t really counting on that happening anytime soon. What he wouldn’t give to be a child again. Maybe there was some kind of time reversal spell or de-aging enchantment he could try. This time he would appreciate every opportunity for the nap his mother had tried give him.

When he made it to the clearing, Merlin sat down on the ground. Or rather, his legs sort of gave up and collapsed out from under him, and he fell ungracefully in a heap that he simply chose not to get up from. Turning his head to the sky, he raised his voice, “ _O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!_ ”

The rush of the dragonlord magic ran through him, filling him with an ecstasy that was then immediately crushed by an overwhelming sadness as he remembered why he was here. How could he ever give that feeling up?

Sure there were the bad times. The times he had to do terrible things with his gift that he would regret for the rest of his life. But then there were the closed wounds and dancing lights and flowers. Healings and pretty things that didn’t hurt anyone and even saved people, both physically and emotionally. Merlin would spend the rest of his life doing only that if he had the chance.

A shadow appeared in the night sky, growing larger and larger until Kilgharrah landed before him, folding in his wings with a harrumph. “Young warlock. Why have you summoned me this time? Would you like to tell me how much you are regretting your decision to save the life of the witch, perhaps? Or more likely you are here for more advice you intend to disregard?”

_I just can’t catch a break, can I?_

“There’s a problem,” he admitted dully. “A problem that isn’t Morgana.”

With that Merlin explained everything that had happened in Camelot the last couple of days. The poison, the water, Gaius. He left out Morgana and her threats. Not because he was protecting her or anything; mostly he was protecting himself from the scolding. He couldn’t handle it right now.

He remained sitting on the ground while he gave his report of the current happenings in Camelot, picking at the blades of grass around him, twirling them between his fingers and shredding them delicately. When he had sufficiently destroyed the greenery, he pulled out the scarf and twined in his hand, tying it and untying it around his bicep with his magic, something that was easy, even while his brain was floating in free space. He never once looked at Kilgharrah while he spoke.

The Great Dragon was quiet for a long moment after he had finished, almost long enough for Merlin to think about making a decision between nodding off there on the grass and glancing up to see if the creature was even listening or if he had given up on him in disgust. Then he gave a blustering sigh. “This is a problem indeed. You cannot drink that potion.”

Merlin snorted. “I know _that_. I don’t _want_ to. But Uther keeps taking away all my other options.”

“Then you create new options. But you must not drink that potion, young warlock.”

“Why?” Merlin demanded angrily, finally lifting his head up to meet the giant beady eyes, clenching his fist around the silk fabric. “Because I’ll mess up my destiny? What does it matter that I keep my magic if no one else can use theirs?”

“The small number of sorcerers who were foolish enough to remain in the heart of Camelot pales in comparison to number that will be lost should your destiny come to an end,” Kilgharrah rumbled back. “And even that pales in comparison to the peril that will befall you should you fall under the spell of this vile curse.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are not like other sorcerers, young warlock. This you have always known. Magic is not only a part of you, it is who you are. Should you fall prey to this ‘ _cure,_ ’” he spat the word the same way he did when he referred to Morgana, “the consequences would be grave indeed.”

“What would happen to me exactly? Are you saying this could _kill_ me?”

“Your future in this world is your own to decide. The paths are always changing. I am sorry. I wish I could be of more help.”

_Yeah, I bet you do_. “It’s not my own decision when people are trying to bloody _poison_ me!”

But Kilgharrah was already unfolding his wings and leaping into the air again.

_Well, that was helpful._ Merlin didn’t exactly see what he’d learned from the trip, other than now he risked not just life without the one thing that made him who he was, the destruction of his destiny, life as a slave, but oh yeah, he might also _die_.

Sometimes it was great being him.

* * *

It turned out Merlin was not the only one making a late night excursion.

Morgana swept through the trees, cloak billowing out behind her –the red one, not the green one Gwen had worked out her nerves cutting the pattern for earlier that evening. They had had planned to have a meeting that night. Even leaving a message in the mirror, there was no telling if it would actually get there; Morgana’s skill at the sending part of the spell was spotty at best. However, she could only hope that Morgause really did know her so well she could sense her growing levels of distress and would come anyway.

Not that that had worked well when she had fallen down the stairs. Morgause hadn’t even had an inkling that she was lying on her deathbed. She had simply been surprised that Morgana hadn’t shown up to their meeting. Eventually she had come to the castle to find out what had happened, but she had not done so until long after Morgana had been through her harrowing illness and woken up.

But this was different, surely.

When Morgana had first heard the news that they were supposed to be receiving a visitor, she hadn’t even been bothered to do more than nod an acknowledgement. High-ranking merchants often came through to hock their wares. She was unsurprised that Arthur had somehow managed to schedule himself for patrol then chosen not to come back to avoid the visit. He always found a way to get out of things that bored him.

When she found out who the visitor was, she wanted to join him.

_“How can you even think about letting that man in here after what happened to Gaius?” She was frankly glad Gaius was around for it to happen to again if it should come to that, but circumstances called for her to point out it out on the principle of the matter._

_“Honestly, are you going to harp on that, as well? I appreciate your concern, but I promise, nothing is going to happen to Gaius, nor to anyone else. It is true he is fighting against sorcery, yes, but not in that way. He is not coming as a witchfinder, merely as a seller of wares.”_

Oh, he’d had wares. One ware in particular, in fact.

“Sister!”

Morgana spotted her half-sister’s blonde hair poking through the darkness. It was lucky Morgause did not share her own complexion, as she would blend into the forest, and Morgana would never be able to find her, especially with all the black she wore. She understood why it was necessary, they were supposed to be sneaking around, after all, but her own ensemble was not exactly spy chic, and she managed.

“Sister, I bring grave news…”

Little did she know the same conversation was happening in a different area of the woods. Unlike Merlin, however, she was completely engaged with her audience and had total faith in their willingness and ability to come up with a solution.

And unlike Merlin, she was not disappointed in the results.

“You must be careful. Now more than ever no one must suspect you. Uther will not sell you if only to prevent embarrassing himself, but this potion gives him a way to save himself from having to make a decision about killing you. He will simply take your magic away and then lock you away for the rest of your life. I will not allow that to happen if I can help i, but I cannot watch you always.

“Now, as for what to do about it. If you can get me a sample of this potion, I may be able to find a counter-spell for it to protect from the effects should it ever be slipped to you. And we may find it has other properties we can exploit. It is clear that Camelot has some kind of magical protector nearby. If Uther is nullifying his magicians, it may be that he will soon be without protection. If that is so, then the time may be soon that we can strike. Be wary, sister. Listen carefully, and report back to me anything you may hear.”

Morgause gave her a tight hug. “I will send for you when next we can meet. If anything should happen in the meantime, do not fear–”

“I know,” Morgana smiled. “You’ll always be there for me.”

“To the utmost of my abilities. You must be getting back, sister. You will be missed.”

With another quick hug, they bid their farewells. Morgana hurried back through the woods, making sure not to snag her cloak on any branches. It would be difficult in the morning to explain a torn hem to Gwen that had not been there yesterday. Sneaking past the guards back in the citadel was child’s play. Really, it was a surprise they weren’t invaded more often. Entire armies could waltz past them without raising suspicion.

Once inside the walls, Morgana removed her cloak and moved more leisurely through the corridors. It would not be unusual if anyone found her wandering around here. She did _live_ in the castle, after all. She could just tell anyone she came across that she decided she wanted some fresh air and went for a walk, taking the cloak in case there was a chill.

Rounding a corner, a hand shot out of the shadows and yanked her in, wrapping a hand around her mouth to stop her from screaming.


	6. Chapter 6

“Shh! It’s only me,” came the low voice.

When she stilled, the hand pulled away from her mouth, though a tight grip was kept on her wrist. “Merlin!” she hissed. “What on earth are you doing?”

“What? I thought yanking people into alcoves against their will was your thing?” he replied innocently, the shadows too dark to make out his face. There was only a diagonal strip of moonlight across his mouth, revealing a hard line and a slight reflective glint in his eyes. His tone became more serious. “I just thought you’d be interested to know. Uther put the cure in the water. It’s not safe. If you drink it or eat any food that used water, it’s the same as taking it straight from the bottle.”

Morgana stifled a gasp. She had had water with her meal tonight. Lots of it. She did with every meal. It was in nearly everything. It was the base of soups and stews. It was used to stew vegetables, to clean the blood off meat. It watered down the wine that she had drunk rather a bit more of than normal to take the edge off after the day she’d had.

“Why should I believe you?”

Although the problem was that she did. It was exactly something Uther would do. Why take a sorcerer’s word for it when you could simply trick them into condemning themselves?

“No reason. Except that you have no reason not to. Why would I lie about this? Gaius’s life is at stake here, too.”

That made sense. Merlin cared more about Gaius than himself. Morgana didn’t see why. She had known the old man _much_ longer, yet he had lied to her about a fundamental part of herself.

“When? When did he do it?”

“I don’t know. Sometime before the evening meal. You should be okay –the cooks usually grab their entire day’s supply in the morning –but you won’t know for certain until you check.”

She couldn’t tell in the darkness, but Morgana was fairly certain he was raising an eyebrow at her expectantly. Normally she would simply sneer at him and ignore his insinuation that _he_ could give _her_ orders. But there were more important things to worry about right now than any personal vendetta. She held up a palm between them. “ _Forbaernan_.”

Her entire world froze for what felt like eternity but what was really only barely a second before a tiny flame burst into life. Only Merlin’s continued grip on her wrist held her upright as she nearly crumpled to the floor in relief.

“You got lucky this time. But tomorrow, the next day, the day after that? You can’t drink water from the castle anymore. Not if you want to keep your magic.”

Morgana finally got her senses back and snatched her wrist away, snarling, “And why exactly are you telling me this? What do you care if I keep my magic?”

“I don’t,” he snapped back. “I just… I think if you’re going to lose your magic, that should be your choice. No one should make it for you.”

“And why would I ever _choose_ to lose my magic?”

Merlin just shrugged. “I’m just saying. Uther doesn’t have any more right to make that decision for you than you have to decide that no one will accept yo–”

It was her turn to take a hard grip on Merlin now, squeezing her nails sharply into his upper arm. “You have no right to speak about things you do not understand. Now, you will either help me find a solution to this problem, or you will get out of my way.”

There was a long pause, in which she was sure he was formulating the most spiteful way to say “Get lost.” But then he answered softly, “Tell Gwen you’re trying a new diet so she’ll bring you only safe foods. I’ll make a list if you need it since I’ve been in the kitchens more, but it would be mostly uncooked vegetables, breads, and dairy. And… I’m gathering water outside the city for Gaius. I’ll bring you some each day. You won’t be able to leave all the time to get your own without gathering suspicion.” He looked pointedly down at her cloak, the vivid red still obvious in the shadows. “No matter how good you think you are at it.”

“Right. Like I’m going to fall for that. Need I remind you of the last time you offered me water?”

This didn’t make sense. This was Merlin. The man who poisoned her, even while they were supposed to be friends. Now they were blatantly enemies, and he was trying to _save_ her?

He winced, and she thought his eyes glinted brighter, but that might have been a trick of the light. “This isn’t the same, and you know it. I told you before, I don’t think you deserve to die for who you are. I meant that. You _can_ use your gifts for good, Morgana, because _you_ are a good person. And so long as that’s possible, I’m going to keep giving you a chance to prove it.”

With that he yanked his arm out of her grip and began to walk away. He paused for a just a moment, turning back to murmur, “I’ll be there first thing in the morning, just before I start my regular chores.”

Then he left her standing alone in the darkness.

* * *

What _had_ he been thinking? Merlin didn’t even really know himself, to be honest. Everything he’d said to her was true. He didn’t think Morgana deserved to die for being a sorceress, any more than he thought he himself did. Just so did he think it ought to be her choice if she wanted to give that up, like it should be for everyone. But this was _Morgana._ He’d been warned about Morgana. Morgana was “the witch.” Morgana must “never know the true extent of her powers.”

Mordred was destined to kill Arthur, and Morgana was destined to help him. The less tools she had in her arsenal, the better.

So what had driven him to help her?

Merlin picked up the bucket where he had abandoned it after he’d spotted her flitting through the corridors. This one would go to her in the morning. He’d have to keep this from Gaius. The old man might actually approve, was probably worried about her himself, but he would worry about Merlin, worry about how they were going to provide for three of them without getting caught. He would probably decide to take himself out of the equation so they wouldn’t have to split it three ways.

That Merlin would not allow. Gaius would not skimp for himself. Merlin would lie about how much he was drinking before he let Gaius do it. He had paid more attention than Gaius thought during all those lessons, particularly the ones about droughts. The human body could go three days without water. They would manage.

He wasn’t going to tell Kilgharrah, either. Every other time he’d asked the dragon for help regarding Morgana, he had been steadfastly refused. In fact, when Merlin had needed help saving her after he had nearly caused her death a few months ago, Merlin had ended up forcing him to give him the cure with his dragonlord powers.

Merlin returned to the physician’s chambers via the kitchens. Gaius was asleep as he slipped in the door. Carefully he set down his nicked bucket, the insides craftily wiped down with a cloth wet from the other bucket to look like it’d once been filled, then took his bucket back to his room. He’d thought about leaving it in an abandoned storage cupboard, but this would be the day that some new maid went looking for a broom and found it there. No, better to wait for Gaius to go on his morning rounds and sneak it out then.

The next morning Gaius had his breakfast prepared for him. Just bread and cheese, but Merlin had never eaten much in the mornings to begin with, usually sleeping in until the last possible moment before dashing off to his chores. The only reason he forced himself out of bed on this occasion was so he could stop by Morgana’s to drop off the water.

Merlin puttered around the room as long as he could, putting off his departure until the last possible moment while waiting for Gaius to leave on his rounds. The moment his guardian was out the door, Merlin sprinted back to his room for the water. He carted it through the corridors up to Morgana’s, keeping an eye out for Gwen. She was the only one he was worried about. There was nothing strange about a servant carrying around a bucket of water, not even anything strange about him carrying water to Morgana. But if Gwen noticed him bringing it when Morgana hadn’t even mentioned the need to her, and if she noticed Merlin was doing so regularly… she might become suspicious.

And Gwen had the ear of Arthur, and Arthur knew about the tainted water.

He’d gotten more information out of Gaius while they’d eaten breakfast. So far as anyone else was concerned, Merlin did not know about what was happening. Which meant unless Arthur broke down and ranted about it himself, Merlin was not to breathe a word.

_Great. More secrets._ Just what he needed, one more thing to have to keep hidden.

Morgana’s door opened, and Merlin leapt back behind a suit of armour, eyes desperately flashing to keep the water in the bucket from sloshing over the edge from the sudden jarring. Gwen stepped out into the corridor, bearing a seemingly untouched tray of food. Her expression was puzzled as she carried it away.

That was good. It meant Morgana has been successful in convincing her to bring her a safe meal.

Or, wait… it wasn’t good? Having your former friend as your enemy was confusing.

Merlin knocked, then slipped in the door. “Here. Use it carefully. I’ll bring more when you need it.”

Morgana just flitted her eyes between him and the bucket, regarding them both suspiciously.

“What, do you want me to test it first?” Merlin snapped.

Her eyes narrowed. “One, you tried that little charade last time, remember? I won’t fall for that again. Two, you’re very amusing. We both know you don’t need to slip any poison into this for it to hurt me.”

“What good would that do me? Your leverage over me has nothing to do with you being a sorceress. You decided this is even flavoured funny, and you can hand me over, and you know it.”

Although he was pretty sure she also knew it wasn’t a very strong bit of leverage, frankly not on either side. She had no proof that he’d done anything to her other than him being in the room at the time and no explanation for how she would have recovered. Even if they believed she had been poisoned they both knew he would never be believed as the prime suspect. Morgause was universally hated by the royal family while he was trusted by Arthur and at least tolerated by Uther.

But then he had even less proof she was working for Morgause, so they were at an impasse there, as it were.

“Fine, but then you may be dead, but I’ll still be magicless. You get what you want, and I get to deal with a grieving Arthur. He will never let me forget it was my fault."

"Caring about how Arthur feels? How novel for you. Don't strain yourself."

"Of course I-" she snapped indignantly before cutting herself off. Then she pointed imperiously towards the door. "Just go, Merlin. Take your poison and go."

He sighed. "It's not poison. I told you, this isn't like that. Look, you can believe me or not. But what do you think Morgause will do if you go and ask her for help? You can't be sneaking out every other night. They aren't that oblivious around here. So you won’t be able to go to Morgause, and she would have to sneak in instead. She cares about you. I saw that. She'll try to protect you as best she can. Either way eventually you, or more likely she, would be caught. Are you willing to risk that for her? The only one at risk if you go with my way is me.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and turned toward the corrider. “Drink it, don’t drink it, it’s up to you. I’m not going to get into this with you every time. When you need a refill, you know where to find me.”

He stalked out, determined to get out of there before he lost his temper further, or Gwen found him again. She would _definitely_ start asking questions if Merlin was suddenly hanging around Morgana’s chambers, _alone_ , when he had never done so before and had no right to do so now. And he had a bad feeling that while they might not have anything to do with magic, those would still not be questions Merlin wanted to answer.

* * *

Arthur stood on the steps with Gaius as his father bid farewell to Darius and his travelling companions. Breakfast had been an almost painful ordeal. Of course his father had spent the entire time glowing about how well this new method of distributing the cure was going to work, and Darius had been bragging about his plans for new developments to fight sorcery. He had promised to send a shipment as soon as possible for use in the outer villages. They still had a few bottles, of course, just in case the diluted form wasn’t enough and someone slipped through the cracks, but the two men were confident.

Arthur was not. No, he was not, nor had he ever been, on the side of the sorcerers. However, he could not say that he supported lying to the people, either. He understood where the motivation was coming from. If they didn’t lie, they risked the people lying to them. But was an eye for an eye really the answer?

Sometimes he wasn’t sure he was ever going to be ready to be king.

Of course, no one would ever come forward about it if and when they found out. Who was going to stand up and say “Hey, one day I had magic but then I had a cup of water, and now it’s gone. How did you do that?” So there would be no riot in the streets, because no one could ever admit to being the one who it affected. Instead it might start through quiet means, raised prices for goods charged to the castle. Little “surprises” of the not-so-pleasant nature finding their way into rooms of the nobility. Servants who had far off relatives they needed to leave their jobs suddenly to go tend to, and so sorry to leave you in a lurch, but so long.

“So, where is Merlin for this auspicious occasion?” Gaius asked. If it hadn’t been said so mildly, the sarcasm of the question might have been palpable.

“Armoury,” Arthur answered distractedly. “Or maybe he’s done that by now, I don’t know. I forgot to give him more than one thing to do for the morning. And there probably wasn’t even that much to _be_ done; his replacement yesterday made sure everything was taken care of.”

“It’s not like you to forget something like that, sire. Something on your mind?”

“I’ve been a bit distracted lately.” Arthur glared pointedly at the departing horses.

Gaius smiled in understanding. “Well, he’s gone now. You don’t need to worry about Merlin anymore.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I always worry about Merlin.”

“As do I.”

Arthur glanced over at his father making his way across the courtyard towards them. “What about you, Gaius? Need I be worried about you?”

“So long as no one loses their heads, there is no need to worry at all.” He turned his attention away as Uther drew level. “You mentioned you wished to see me later, sire?”

“Ah, yes, Gaius. My shoulder has been acting up more than usual lately. I was wondering if you might bring me something for it.”

“Of course, sire.”

Arthur watched them walk away, unsure why he had a weight in the pit of his stomach. So Gaius was going to –or more likely already had by now –have his ability to do magic taken away. It’s not like he used it, or wanted to. It’s not like he should have. Sorcery was bad.

So why did he feel like Gaius’s comment about losing heads was a bit too prophetic?

Arthur gave himself a little shake to clear his head. He was overthinking this. Gaius gave up sorcery a long time ago; this wasn’t any different. As Gaius himself had said, there was no reason to worry anymore.

He re-entered the castle and began a search for his servant. As he’d expected, Merlin was nowhere to be found in the armoury. Nor was he in Arthur’s chambers.

“Where is that useless toad?” he growled as he stomped through the corridors. He spotted Guinevere carrying a load of laundry. “Guinevere, have you seen Merlin anywhere?”

“Have you tried–”

“Probably.” She raised an eyebrow admonishingly at him for his snappish tone. He lowered his head in shame. “Sorry.”

“I was going to say, have you tried the stalls? If you can’t find him, that probably means he’s gone to the one place you wouldn’t think to look for him.”

“Guinevere, I could kiss you.” Realising what he had said Arthur flushed. Sometimes it was hard to remember the familiarity they had had with each other was no longer appropriate for "just friends." “I mean, thank you. I appreciate your help.”

Luckily she did not seem to mind, swatting him playfully on the arm. “Oh, get on, you. Go find Merlin and tell him all about what a sap you’re being.”

Arthur made his way out to the stalls. Guinevere was right; if he were to make a list of places Merlin would have gone willingly, even the stocks would have placed above the stalls. Mucking out the horses was the servant’s least favourite job. Possible because he was aware it wasn’t even a job he technically had to do. The stable hands would have been perfectly capable of doing so, and had indeed been the ones to do it before Merlin had come along. Arthur had only come up with the job to try to get Merlin to quit. After that it had just kind of stuck (mostly because Arthur wasn’t willing to admit what he had done).

It did not bode well. Merlin should not be avoiding him. Merlin had now been angry with him to some degree for nearly a week. Arthur was starting to wonder if he even knew what it was Merlin was actually upset about.

He found Merlin forcefully shoving around fresh bedding on the stall floor. The job was clearly complete, but he kept going. Arthur leaned up against a post. “So which one offended you? The rake, the straw, or the ground?”

Merlin startled, stumbling backwards and smacking his head against the wall. “Wh-what?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “From the way you were attacking the job there, I thought you were working out a personal grudge. Just curious who it was against.”

Yes, this was how to do it. A direct question.

“Shut up,” he scowled.

Okay, maybe not.

“I’m not sure if I should give you the morning off more often because you become surprisingly more productive or never give you time off again because you become unbearably cranky.”

“You didn’t give me time off. Just told me to check your armour instead of bringing you breakfast. It’s fine, by the way.”

Inwardly Arthur sighed. His hopes for finally having things back to normal were quickly slipping through his fingers once again. Perhaps it was time to retreat and regroup. He hated to think he was running away from a battle, but sometimes in war you needed to concede some fights and come up with a better strategy for next time. “Good. After you fetch midday, you can bring it to the training field and help me prepare for practice.”

“You want food now? You barely just had breakfast! What, did they not actually feed you at that big meeting with the king?”

Arthur just flashed a grin, though it felt fake even to him. “Well, I thought I’d let you finish the stalls first.”

“But I am fini–”

“I said stall _s_ , _Mer_ lin. Have fun.”

When Merlin was actually speaking to him civilly again, Arthur was going to teach him about the phrase Pyrrhic victory.

Was Merlin going to be mad at him forever? For heaven’s sake, Arthur had _sacked_ him before with less backlash than this. Arthur had done what he could to keep Merlin out of prison. He had let Merlin spend an entire day with Morgana and Guinevere, who had probably spent the entire time cooing over him like a puppy. He had apologized for his unintentional slight against Gaius. What more did Merlin want from him?

Perhaps it was time to call in the reinforcements. It was never shameful to request aid from an ally.


	7. Chapter 7

Gaius wasted no time that morning. Luckily Merlin’s anxiety was making him finally take responsibility for himself, waking himself up and getting ready without his usual need for continuous prompting. Gaius was able to be out the door and on with his rounds in half the time he normally did.

Uther had ordered him to be present for the departure of Darius and his companions later on in the morning, then to meet with him afterwards, which meant Gaius had to hurry if he wanted to get his own errand out of the way first. He only had a few things in the citadel to drop off, a few droughts and pair of ointments (if he’d known Merlin didn’t have to attend Arthur, he would have made the boy do it for him). Then he took what was left in his medicine bag and headed into the lower town.

Astrid was one of the few people left in Camelot who knew him well from before the Great Purge. She'd lived with her brother Callum back then, their parents long dead, and she was freshly betrothed to her now late husband Edmund. It had been Callum's fabric business, technically, inherited from his old man, but everyone knew Astrid was the one who ran it, her brother too busy with new ways to spell the cloth to bother with the business side of things.

Gaius had always bought from them. He and Alice had loved the way Callum's charms worked to stop the bleeding, to keep out infection, to mend the skin. It made their jobs much easier and the pair always charged a fair price, even no price at all if someone was truly in need.

But then the purge came. Callum, a known sorcerer, had had two choices: stay and die or flee and live. He chose the latter, getting out of the city unscathed. Astrid remained behind.

Twenty years, a lost brother, and a dead husband and son later, she had been left slightly less unscathed.

Gaius made his way to her now. To say he had been surprised at her gift was an understatement. It had certainly been the last thing he had been expecting, especially from her. It was obvious Merlin had no idea what it really was. But perhaps that was for the best... yes, this was one burden he was going to do his hardest to keep off the shoulders of his young ward. The poor boy had enough to deal with.

Astrid was already out front manning her stall, despite the early hour. She grinned broadly when she spotted him. "Gaius! Merlin and then you all in two days? What have I done to deserve such treatment?"

Gaius pulled out the jar she had given Merlin yesterday. "I wanted to return this to you. With my thanks. The balm was very helpful. I put some of my own in in return."

Her smile twitched. "Did you? How thoughtful of you. Would you like to come in and visit for a moment? I find it's much easier to talk when you aren't surrounded by the jabber."

"Don't you need to tend to the stall?"

"It'll keep. My customers know where to find me if they need me." She led him into her home, closing the door firmly behind her. She sat in a chair at the table, inviting Gaius to sit opposite her. "I must say, I was quite surprised to find myself receiving letters all of a sudden. Callum sends them, of course, but only perhaps once a year, and I just got one from him a few weeks ago. I've always thought I knew no one else who would bother."

"I was surprised as well-"

"And so were my neighbours." Her expression went hard.

"I'm sorry, Astrid. I'm sure she didn't- _we_ didn’t mean to cause you trouble."

She softened a bit, though suspicion was still there. "Gaius, you know I loved Alice. I would do anything for her. That's why I told Merlin to give you her letter. I could have written her back and told her to find another way of communicating. But even if I don’t understand everything that has happened, I understand that it would be risky to bring anything from her right up to the palace gates. Although I am sorry for the amount of subterfuge I used. I would have rather given it to you, but then Merlin came by, and I’ll admit I wanted it gone. Then he had the lady Morgana with him and her maid, and I didn't want them asking questions."

“Thank you. I really do appreciate it.”

Gaius had been very confused at first when Merlin delivered him the jar of unguent from Astrid’s shop. While she supplied the best cloth for bandages in exchange all her salves tended to come from Gaius. The mystery was only solved when he opened the jar to instead find a missive from Alice. They’d discussed passing their letters through old friends, but to be honest he’d expected that once she’d left the city, he would never hear from her again.

“We can find another way if it’s too much trouble. Even the most bored of servants wouldn’t bother to read the dry missives of a physician and his colleague.” He was becoming wary of the clearly forced civility. Astrid had never treated him as anything but a friend before.

“That would be for the best. I plan to leave Camelot tomorrow, just as soon as things are taken care of here. I’m joining my brother out in the country.”

Gaius frowned in confusion. Through everything that had happened, Astrid had stayed in the city. It was a rarity. Half the population had left at the time of the Great Purge rather than stay and be killed, dozens more left by the year with every new magical attack. Perhaps there was the protection of the army within the city walls, but at least the outlying villages didn’t have to deal with dragons and skeleton armies. “I’m sorry to hear that… If you don’t mind me asking, is there any… particular _motivator_ behind your decision?”

“Do you really need to ask that?” she half-sneered, dropping any hint of friendliness altogether. “You aren’t that sheltered up there in the castle. Even if Uther was keeping the truth from you through whatever misguided capability of loyalty he has left, I did just speak to Merlin yesterday you know.”

“The sorcery cure,” he sighed. Of course it was that. “No, it hasn’t been kept from me.”

Astrid arched an eyebrow. “In any sense of the word?”

He hesitated. “I haven’t been made to take it yet, no. But I–”

“That’s what I thought. Unfortunately the rest of us will not be so lucky. I’m not a fool. Uther is a paranoid fool. He won’t be satisfied until every single person in the kingdom has had a taste of his little miracle brew. There will be no more hiding.”

Well, it seemed his subjects weren’t nearly as naïve as the king wished to believe. Astrid may not know exactly what had been done, but it was clear she wasn’t buying that things were going to remain civil for long. Or as civil as selling your own people into slavery ever got.

This was the first time, though, that Gaius had ever heard Astrid refer to herself as having magic, even indirectly. It had been suspected, of course, given that it was well known Callum practiced, but as she had stayed in Camelot when her brother fled, suspicions were allayed enough to leave her in relative peace.

“Not that you would have a clue what I’m talking about. Because you don’t have to live like the rest of us. You haven’t spent over twenty years wondering if this was the day you would go to the chopping block. You haven’t had to fear your friends and neighbours one day turning against you. Even in the other kingdoms, where the hunts for sorcerers have never been nearly as fierce as Camelot, people still hide themselves away. Yet here you are, living barely a breath away from the king himself, a known sorcerer.”

Gaius hung his head. He knew his unique position was a matter of contention between him and other magic users. It wasn’t the first time someone had gone off on him about it. It was true, other than that one time with Aredian, he hadn’t had to fear for his life. He had made a promise, and Uther trusted he would keep it.

But no one knew what he had had to give up for that promise. Yes, he no longer practiced magic –those two recent occasions didn’t count– but Gaius had been forced to watch as those who did, people he had known for years, people he cared about, were rounded up for the slaughter.

And Gaius hadn’t sat back and done nothing. He had saved those he could. He had stricken Alice’s name off the list of suspected sorcerers –in her case it wasn’t really a suspicion; they well knew she had magic. He had sent Balinor off to safety in Ealdor when it had become clear that the dragonlord would not be allowed to live. He had steered Uther and the knights away from the trails of countless others he heard being condemned.

No, he hadn’t saved everyone. But no one could do that, right?

Astrid sighed and slumped back in her chair, venom replaced with exhaustion. “I’m sorry. Maybe I am being a bit harsh. But the way I see it, you made your bed, and now like the rest of us, you must lie in it. You chose to let Alice go and stayed in Camelot working for the king, the same way I chose to let Callum leave without me. I remained behind to save our business. I had hoped that Uther would change his mind, that he would see the madness in what he was doing and stop before it was too late. I had hoped that my brother would be able to come home. Perhaps I am a fool, after all. 

“I have lost my brother, my husband, and my son, and now I am going to lose my magic, all because of some thoughtless war. And so I must leave. Before Callum has nothing to come back to.”

Astrid stood and shook her skirts out, signalling their conversation had neared its end. “But if anyone asks, I’m leaving in protest to being forced to drink the city water. Although I don’t know why Uther is surprised anymore. I would poison something too if I could get away with it. But I have been through magic poisoning my water too supply many times before. Enough is enough.”

Gaius froze halfway to his feet. “What? What’s that about the water?” Had word somehow leaked from the castle?

“They sent a crier through the lower town this morning. A begrudged sorcerer poisoned the streams outside the walls. Now everyone must drink from the city water, but of course the reservoir will run dry eventually and once more people will begin to suffer, which I guess is the attacker’s point. I might risk it anyway if it weren’t for the guards they posted to keep an eye out for the perpetrator.”

Guards. This was bad. This was very bad. Gaius didn’t believe the story about poisoning of the streams for a minute, but he believed what she had heard about the rest of it. Uther was forcing everyone to drink the tainted water from the reservoir. Which wouldn’t be a problem, normally, since he knew the tale was false and the streams were safe, but the guards were another matter altogether. Things had just become much riskier.

And if they couldn’t get water to drink, that left him with narrowing options. But there was still one that he hadn’t dared bring up to Merlin yet that was appearing to quickly become their only one.

“Astrid, I know I have asked a lot of you, and a lot has been put upon you without any say from you on the matter, and I don’t know quite yet if it will be necessary, but if I bring you another letter in the morning before you leave, would you take it with you and deliver it for me?”

* * *

Gaius picked up the needed remedy from his chambers and made his way to Uther’s. He couldn’t say he wasn’t nervous. No matter what he told Merlin – or even himself – about doing what he had to do, he’d never thought there would come a time when there wouldn’t be the possibility he could do magic again.

Sure, Gaius wasn’t like Merlin. He hadn’t been making his eyes glow in the cradle. There had certainly been a time when he hadn’t even considered he had the potential to be a sorcerer. But nor had he been like Morgana, discovering his gifts after a lifetime of being told they were the worst kind of evil. He had loved doing magic. It had hurt to give it up.

But it was probably for the best that he was going to be made to do this now. If he no longer had to protect himself, it would be one less person to be a burden on Merlin, especially now that things were becoming more difficult.

Because the truth was that Gaius was a coward. He could preach to himself until the stars went down about how he would do anything to protect the boy he thought of as his son -and when it came to giving up his life for him, Gaius would always be the first in line – but this… this frightened him. Even after finding out things were about to get even harder for them all, he still couldn’t bring himself to fall on his sword without a qualm.

Uther was waiting for him, of course. He sat at his table, documents spread across the entire surface. He held one in his hands, reading over it carefully, his brows knit in a frown.

“Ah, Gaius! Please, sit. I just received these grain reports a few moments ago and was taking a look over them. I’m afraid I might need a remedy for a headache next.”

Gaius took the proffered seat. “Is everything alright, sire?”

“The yield isn’t nearly where we had hoped it would be. Apparently a few of the larger fields were hit by a terrible blight. We shall have to start preparing for the possibility of a hard winter. Arthur will need to get on organizing a division of the new grain crops and the reserves in case we have to send help to the outer villages. Hopefully the rest of the crops will make up for the slack.”

“I’m sure things will work out in the end, sire,” Gaius assured him. He smiled to himself. This was the king he had agreed to serve. The one who cared about his people, who only wanted what was best for them. The problem was, he didn’t always know what that was. Even the ban of magic, while fuelled by his anger and despair over the loss of Ygraine, was done with the honest intent to make the kingdom as a whole a better place. It was just that his grief stopped him from seeing how misguided the notion was.

“I hope you’re right.” He set the documents aside. “So, you have something for me?”

Gaius handed over the bottle of potion. “I would suggest less time spent hunched over this table, sire. Perhaps delegate a bit more to your advisors and Arthur. Give your shoulder some time to relax.”

“Time to relax? What are these faery tales you speak of?” Uther laughed heartily. “I don’t think I’ve had a moment to relax since I was Arthur’s age, or perhaps even before that. Even when something good happens I don’t get to simply sit back and enjoy it. Why, there’s the big tournament coming up soon, and along with organizing it, I get to sit back and hope that my son isn’t killed by a sorcerer or worse, some young upstart with dreams of glory.”

_If Merlin has his way, he won’t be. That is, if Merlin still has his magic by then._

“Yes, well, I’m afraid worrying about your offspring is the lifelong duty of a parent, not just a king.”

“Yes… And hopefully once this cure has done its job, I will have one less reason to worry about him.”

And they were here, back to the cure, back where Gaius knew it was all circling around to.

He tread carefully, though he knew of all people, he had the most freewill when it came to his speech with the king. “Or perhaps not. You may find yourself dealing instead with attacks from vengeful ex-sorcerers upset about the methods you have taken against them, sire, just as they have against the executions. The only difference is that they will be attacking with sinew and steel instead of sorcery. Even then, once word gets out, you will not be able to subdue all magic users at once. They will come just as before to try to stop you.”

Uther frowned, but he didn’t reprimand him for his speech. “That’s why we took the measure of adding it to the water. It will quicken the spread.”

“And what of those beyond Camelot’s walls? You are falling into the same pitfall as before, sire. Your people will not sit back and idly watch their families sold into slavery.”

Uther winced. “That… was not wholly my decision. I find slavery to be a detestable practice. But it is the choice of sorcerers to continue to practice evil, and thus their punishment must be equally as grave if it is to set an example to the rest of the populace that such things will not be tolerated.”

Gaius sighed. It was the same old argument he’d been hearing for over twenty years. He had no desire to sit through it again. It was time to take the plunge. “Sire… I have noticed that you have not asked me yet to take this potion.”

“No, I have not.” The king looked extremely uncomfortable. “I thought it would be unnecessary to force you to stand on ceremony and do so. I made the mistake of not trusting you once before, Gaius. I will not do it again. I am trusting you now that you will take it on your own. That is why I wished for you to be told about the water supply. I did not want you to think I was trying to go behind your back. I owe you more than that.”

“Thank you, sire.” Gaius stood. “I appreciate it.”

He left the king behind with a heavy heart. Not only because the choice was still up to him, but because he had been trusted enough to be given it, and he was throwing that trust away.

* * *

The rest of the day found Gaius tinkering away in his quarters. Merlin was apparently being kept busy by Arthur and hadn’t once returned, for which he was grateful. If this went wrong, he didn’t want the boy to know just yet.

Gaius had calculated how long they could last on the water supply they had. A few weeks, at most, and that was if they went without bathing. Gaius wasn’t sure how even touching the tainted water would affect them, and he wasn’t about to risk anything. But a lack of personal hygiene would be nothing compared to what would happen when they ran out of something to drink.

And so Gaius was here, examining a sample of the reservoir water. He had run test after test on it, trying to crack the code surrounding the potion’s mysteries. Unfortunately, either he simply wasn’t smart enough or the sample was just too small. Nothing was working to give him even an inkling of what it contained. And if he didn’t know what was in it, there was no way for him to figure out how to combat it.

Every book he could think of that might help lay open on his tables. He had even employed magic in the hopes that he could force the sample to give up its secrets. But even comparing it directly to the safe water, the potion remained undetectable.

He had told Merlin before that even if he found a possible solution, there would be no way to test it, not safely anyway. That was still true. Unless they were to catch a sorcerer plotting against crown tomorrow, neither of them could try the “cure to the cure” without risk that it wouldn’t work. If it came down to it, perhaps that would be the way Gaius would finally overcome his cowardice. How ironic it would be if he were finally completely willing to give up his magic for Merlin’s sake only to have it work?

But the fact remained what if it didn’t. Then the only one left to test it would be Merlin, which Gaius could never allow.

He didn’t want to admit it, but as the sun began to set and he had to abandon his work for preparing a safe meal for himself and his ward, Gaius knew he was going to have to play his last card. After an unusually quiet Merlin had shut the door to his room for the night, Gaius pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill and began to write.

_To Lancelot,_

_Thank you for taking Alice in for those few days and helping her establish herself in a new place. I was glad to hear she found you and everything has gone well. I know you had planned to move on since the last time I heard, so I am hoping the location you told Merlin in your last letter is the correct one to send this to._

_I’m afraid I must impose upon you again for yet another favour…_


	8. Chapter 8

Morgause leaned over her scrying bowl, swirling the waters as she gazed into their depths for the umpteenth time. Finally she smashed her fist into the surface in disgust, spraying droplets everywhere. What a useless talent scrying was! How was she supposed to know what was going on in Camelot if all it would show her were random silent pictures! What good did seeing Uther talking to some strange man do her if she didn’t know what they were saying?

Yes, she had Morgana on the inside now. Morgana would tell her what she knew. But Morgana could not be everywhere and know everything. That was where Morgause was supposed to come in. She was supposed to be able to know what her sister could not, so that she could protect her.

The news of this “cure” troubled her. Not because of what it did, not really. But because of what it could mean. She was perfectly fine with its function at heart. Fewer sorcerers meant less competition, and more people with a reason to hate the king meant more support when she and Morgana finally took over the throne.

No, none of that bothered her in the slightest. What she was worried about was Morgana. And not what she had warned her sister about, about Uther discovering her gifts and forcing the potion upon her, but rather that Morgana might choose to take it herself.

Her sister was strong-willed, that was true. She would never bend nor break easily to fear or pressure. But she had her weaknesses as everyone did. It had taken every moment of that year Morgause had had her in her sole company to break through her reservations about the plan to take over Camelot. Morgana cared too much. She cared for her half-brother, for her maid, even to some extent for that meddling Merlin despite what he had done to her. Somewhere deep down, there had even been a desire to care for Uther. But enough reminding of they had done and what they would do to her because of her magic had finally broken the spell, so to speak.

But it had not left her the same person. Yes, she was much more ruthless and willing to do what it took to get what she deserved, but there was still damage from what Morgause had done. Morgana hadn’t wanted to hate her friends. Seeing only the bad in people was a discouraging task, and when the bad all revolved around one thing…

And now Morgana had a chance to change that. She had a chance to forget about her magic and become the person who would be accepted by everyone. It wouldn’t matter that she would spend the rest of her life miserable, knowing she was still lying to them about what had once been. All that would matter was she would never have to fear them finding out she had been anything less than lovable.

She would still hate what Uther had done. She would still be devastated over Merlin’s act of betrayal. But not everyone had to be lost. She could still have her half-brother and that maid she once called her friend. Morgana had never aspired for the crown before Morgause had planted the idea in her head. She would be content simply with Uther being ousted from the post.

Luckily, Morgause had never been one to sit idle. While she may not have been able to scry on the situation, that didn’t mean she couldn’t come up with a plan. This “cure” could be very useful. Very useful indeed.

Now all she had to do was get her pieces into place before her sister did something she was bound to regret.

* * *

The next morning found Merlin feeling like he had gone on another four day patrol. His back and shoulders ached with the effort of mucking out the stables. The hands had been in and out too often for him to even think about trying to ease the process along with magic. Then Arthur had kept him running –literally– on the training field for the rest of the day, pounding away with sword, mace, and battle axe. It was like the prince was punishing him for… well, he couldn’t even fathom what.

He slumped onto the bench at the table with a groan. Breakfast was an assortment of fruit today. Which was fine by Merlin. He was perfectly capable of mindlessly shoving berries into his mouth.

Gaius came in as he was polishing off his bowl. Of course he was already up and about his day. Merlin didn’t know how the old man did it, staying calm about this whole thing. But then, Gaius had been living with occurrences like this for decades. Merlin may have been born with magic, but at least he’d been blissfully unaware of exactly what that could mean for half his life.

But just because he seemed to be handling things well didn’t mean Merlin wasn’t worried.

“Gaius,” he began as nonchalantly as he could, “was that a water sample in a vial over on your desk there?”

It looked no different from the water in the cup he was drinking from right now, but Merlin could sense something was off about it. It was the same feeling he got whenever they were about to be attacked out in the woods.

Gaius had the tact to at least look a bit embarrassed. “Yes. I was trying to see if I could discover the properties of Darius’s creation so that we might figure out how to reverse it. I’m sorry, Merlin, but I found nothing.”

Merlin tried not to let his disappointment show too much on his face. He’d been counting on Gaius finding a way to make the water safe for them to drink. Dividing their safe supply amongst the three of them was going to make things tight, not to mention Merlin would soon be exhausted from trips to the woods. There were only so many times even he could go back and forth without tipping someone off, especially carrying a large bucket around. But he was willing to do it to protect Arthur and Gaius, and yes, even Morgana –heaven help him.

“We’ll find another way. In the meantime we’ll just have to stick to what we _can_ drink.” _Both of us. You promised._

“About that, Merlin…” Gaius looked even more uncomfortable now. “Apparently Uther has put guards in the woods surrounding the castle. He’s watching the streams, telling people they’ve been poisoned by a vengeful sorcerer, trying to force them to drink from the city reserves.”

“What! But he’s the one who’s done the poisoning!”

“I know, my boy, I know. But that’s the story.”

“So what do we do now?” Merlin asked it even though he knew the answer. He would have to keep going regardless. They needed water. Gaius didn’t even know how dire that need was, since Merlin was keeping Morgana’s part in all this secret. He was even more glad of that decision now. His guardian would have an aneurism if he knew they had even less water to hand than before.

“We will cross that bridge when we come to it,” Gaius assured, sounding for a rare occasion less than convincing in his wisdom. “I have a few ideas up my sleeve yet. For one, we need to find a way to get a larger sample of the concoction. I fear my difficulties thus far have been the result of the amount of potion in the water having been diluted far too much. If I can study it in its pure form, we may be able to get further towards a solution.”

“But how do we do that? I thought they dumped it all into the reservoir.”

“I’m sure there’s some left over somewhere. Uther is far too shrewd to have put all his chicks in one basket. He’ll have set some aside just in case. We just need to find out where it is.”

“I’ll bet Arthur knows…” Merlin didn’t like to think about that. Arthur’s attitude towards magic in the last few days had been anything but encouraging. Even when he then went out of his way to avoid the prince, the reminder of why he was making himself do it was just another burden on his already heavy heart.

“Then you must find a way to get him to tell you.” Gaius laid a hand gently on Merlin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Merlin. I know you don’t like lying to him, but we have no other choice.”

“I know,” he replied softly. “I’ll think of something. I always do.”

* * *

Arthur had thought long and hard about who he would ask for advice.

His first thought had been Gaius. Gaius lived with Merlin, after all. He was the only one who could ever get Merlin to listen to without a single argument. If anyone would know what was wrong with Merlin, Gaius would. Merlin probably spent every spare moment in their chambers ranting about all the things he didn’t feel able to rant about in the presence of a prince. Yes, Gaius was the perfect person to ask what was going on.

But Arthur didn’t really want to find out from someone else why Merlin had suddenly decided to go sullen on him. He wanted to know how to make _Merlin_ tell _him_.

Which brought him to where he was now, hovering outside the door of Guinevere’s house. She was home. He knew that. Mostly because this was the eighth night in a row he had stood in this exact spot, putting off the moment he would have to go inside.

Arthur hated asking for help. It didn’t matter what he called it, it all meant the same thing. He was admitting he was a failure at something and someone else was better and he needed the better someone to come in and show him how to do his job. It just made him feel pathetic and weak. He hated the idea that other people might see that side of him. He _especially_ didn’t want _Guinevere_ to know that about him.

Things had petered off between them romantically. Arthur still cared deeply about her, and she for him, but they had both come to realise their relationship was not truly one destined to be of husband and wife. Part of Arthur wondered if it was the lingering ghost of Lancelot hanging between them, or maybe it would have happened regardless. He was just glad they were able to remain close despite their past, even if things were occasionally awkward and prompted Arthur to avoid her at times.

But things weren’t getting better with Merlin. From an outsider’s perspective, everything was fine. In fact, if this had been back in the first days that he had met the servant, Arthur wouldn’t have noticed anything wrong either. He might have been fooled into thinking it was business as usual again. But he knew Merlin better than that now. It was clear that he was trying to force himself back into normal behaviour. His smile was false, all of his teasing jibes falling flat.

Arthur’s frustration over the matter had been brought out in perhaps a less than constructive way at training the other day, resulting in Merlin’s arm needing to be put in a sling and the servant getting the next day off as he battled infection.

So yeah, Arthur needed help.

He raised his fist reluctantly and tapped on the doorframe. “Guinevere? It’s me, Arthur. Can I come in?”

The door opened a moment later. “Arthur! What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” Guinevere stepped back to allow him in.

Arthur shuffled awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “Ehm, well you see, it’s…”

Guinevere smiled and relaxed, sensing that he had not been brought there by a need to hide from assassins or other such dangers. “Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll get you something to eat?”

Arthur sat, grateful to be able to put things off for another few moments. As he watched the maid bustle around the little kitchen looking for something suitable to serve a prince, however, he felt compelled to say anyway, “Food’s not necessary, really.”

She stopped and came to sit with him. “Then how about you just take your time and tell me what’s going on to bring you out here in the middle of the night. Much as I’d love it to be a simple need to see me, I think we both can tell that’s not the case.” She didn’t sound offended. If anything, she looked honoured that he had come to her in his moment of need.

“It’s not the middle of the night,” Arthur deflected.

“So it isn’t. But it soon will be, and I know both of us have early mornings ahead of us.”

“Yours will be earlier than mine, no doubt. Morgana’s lucky she has such a wonderful servant instead of an incompetent fool.”

Guinevere latched onto something in his tone, or his words, or maybe she just guessed and knew the odds were in her favour. “Did something happen between you and Merlin?”

“No, he’s always been like that.”

“Arthur…”

He scuffed his foot against the hard-packed dirt floor. “I don’t know. He’s not speaking to me.”

“Merlin, not speaking? That doesn’t sound like him.” She giggled a bit at her unintended joke, then sobered purposefully, blushing. “I’m sorry. But what do you mean he’s not speaking to you? I saw you just yesterday talking in the armoury. Well, it was more like yelling, but I thought that was status quo between to you two.”

“Well, I mean, he’s not _not_ talking. He talks. Just not about anything. Or not without me saying something to him first. I can’t figure out what’s going on in that head of his.”

“Have you asked him what’s wrong?”

“Yes! Well, sort of… I mean… not really. I tried! But he wouldn’t give me anything! Usually I can’t get him to shut up about his problems, now he won’t say a word!”

“And he’s given no indication why that is?”

“No!” Arthur rose from his chair and began pacing the room. “I mean, just a little while ago when he was fighting with Gaius, he told me exactly what was going on! Well, not exactly. Not right then, anyway. He just said they had a falling out. He never said over what.”

“And what did you do in that situation?”

“I… I asked him what his problem was, and he told me, and I gave him advice! And it was good advice, too. Well, it turned out not to be in the end, given what their falling out was about, but in general, it was great advice!”

“Anything else?”

“…I gave him a slug in the arm and told him to cheer up? Oh, don’t you give me that look too! It works with the knights! It’s not my fault Merlin insists on being coddled like a girl.”

“Arthur, did you ever ask what the falling out was about then? Or did you just give him your, I’m sure, wonderful advice and a punch in the arm and send him on his way?”

Okay, maybe _this_ was actually why he didn’t want to go to Guinevere. Because she already knew his faults and had no problem with pointing them out to him.

“I didn’t think so. Arthur, that works with your knights because they don’t expect you to listen to and help them with their problems in the same way that Merlin does. You’re their leader, their prince. To them, if they have a problem, they have been trained to put it aside until their duty has been fulfilled, not get you involved with it. Merlin, on the other hand, was trying to come to you as a friend. He needed a friend’s response, not a leader’s.”

“What? But… but Merlin and I aren’t–” That was insane. He was a prince. In fact, he and Merlin had had that exact conversation before…

The last time Merlin went all weirdly quiet.

Shite.

“You’re right,” Guinevere smiled. “You two aren’t friends. You’re something else entirely, something wholly _you_. He trusts you, more than anyone, and you’re the same, whether you want to admit it to yourself or not. Which is even more of a reason for you to stop moping and just go talk to him. Actually _talk_ , Arthur. Just like we are now. Ask him what’s wrong, and then don’t let him go until he tells you and you fix things.”

She was right, and he knew she was. That didn’t make it any less difficult a manoeuvre to execute.

Arthur dropped back down next to her. “But what if it’s… you know, _my fault?_ ”

Guinevere took his hand in hers. “Then you _fix_ things. Don’t worry so much, Arthur. You took the first step: you came here for help. That means something. You cared enough to want to do this right. Merlin will respect that. Take it from someone who has loved you as well. Merlin wants things to be alright between you just as much as you want it. But if neither of you is willing to take the first step to get there, you never will. I know Merlin, and I know you. Everything will be fine.”

Arthur sighed. Sure, she could say that. She wasn’t the one who had to do the actual talking bit. Unless… he raised his eyebrows questioningly, hoping his exposure to Merlin’s puppy eye look was now paying off.

Apparently it wasn’t. “No. No, no, absolutely not. I will not do this for you, Arthur. If you really need me to, I can be on hand in case things go wrong, and Merlin needs someone.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence!” Arthur grumbled. “Wait, hold on a minute! In case _Merlin_ needs someone? What about me?”

“What _about_ you, Sir Punch-a-lot?” Guinevere retorted. “Considering you’re the one who’s just now figuring out the relationship between you and Merlin is much more than simply servant and master, I get the feeling if anyone’s going to screw this up, it’s not going to be Merlin. _Not_ that you are _going_ to mess up. Just treat him like a friend, Arthur.

“And if you need a conversation opener, ask him about that scarf he’s been keeping tied around his arm all the time lately.”

* * *

“This is stupid. This is just stupid. Why do I have to do this again? Can’t I just let him sulk if that’s what he wants to do? It’s not my problem that he goes and gets himself into these snits.”

“ _Arthur_ –”

“Fine, fine, I’m going. I’ll _talk_ to him, if I must.” Arthur stomped away from Guinevere, who was planning to wait in the corridor outside Gaius’s chambers for either one of them to emerge or for the room to go quiet for so long that one of them must have killed the other.

Which was probably going to be Merlin, because if Arthur had to put up with this grouch act much longer, he could not be held responsible for his actions.

But it was Arthur who entered the physician’s chambers like he was going to his death. Merlin sat grounding some kind of plant into powder, glancing every once in a while at a book open at his side. The instant he heard the door creak open, however, he reached over and slammed the book shut.

“Did you need me for something, sire?”

“Erm, well, not exactly… I mean, I do, in a way…” _Real smooth Pendragon._

_“Just treat him like a friend_.” But Arthur had never actually had _friends_ before. The closest he had ever gotten to that would be Morgana, who was more like a pesky unwanted sister than anything. In fact up until he was about sixteen, he had done his level best to get rid of her. Of course, nothing had ever worked, and it had turned out they actually got along rather well when they weren’t trying to bite the other’s head off, leading to Uther pointing out to their utter horror that despite their differences they had possibly been friends all alo– oh rats, that was the same tale as Merlin, wasn’t it?

Couldn’t Arthur have any friends he knew about first? And was he destined to only be friends with people he couldn’t stand?

“Well, if you don’t need me, then if you don’t mind I have some things I need to do here.” He gestured with his pestle, “Making medicines for Gaius, for example.”

Arthur noted the scarf Guinevere had pointed out was still in its customary position, though it was half hidden now by the sling. Maybe he should just lead with that. Merlin had begun wearing the scrap of fabric… well, nearly back as far as this whole ordeal started. Arthur recognized it as a possible favour, but then, Merlin also wore that ridiculous neckerchief all the time, so who knew what his fashion choices meant. _If this is just girl troubles, I swear, Merlin, I’m never going to forgive you for putting me through this._

“I won’t keep you long. I just needed to ask you something.”

Merlin put down his tools, though not before giving the contents of his bowl one more harsh grind. “Ask then.”

_Like a friend. Like a friend._

“What the hell is going on with you?”

Arthur was fairly certain he could hear Guinevere smacking herself in the face out in the corridor.

“I mean… you’ve been acting very odd lately. I was wondering why.”

Better.

Merlin went back to his work. “It’s nothing. I’ve just been very busy these last few days. Haven’t been getting my beauty sleep.”

Arthur had no problem believing that. The circles around Merlin’s eyes were dark and heavy. But they’d often gone long stretches of time on little sleep, especially on quests or during attacks, and Merlin never went all odd like this. In fact he would normally up his chatter even _more_ in those circumstances to complain about how Arthur was running him into the ground. So it wasn’t just that.

“Anything in particular keeping you up? Anything you might want to… talk about?”

Merlin dropped his tools back down again. “Alright, Arthur, what’s going on? What’s with the sudden curiosity?”

“It’s not sudden! You’ve been avoiding me for weeks! You went to the _stalls_ , Merlin. The _stalls._ You _hate_ mucking out the stalls! Why do you think I make you do it all the time?”

“Good to know. By the way, I also hate naps. And food. Days off? My least favourite thing in the world.” Despite the sarcasm, a smile had crept onto Merlin’s face. Arthur counted that as a win and pressed on.

“Did something happen that you’re not telling me about? Was it Darius? Did he do something or try to do something while he was here? I know he’s gone now, but obviously it’s still bothering you, and if you just tell me what it is then maybe I can fix it! Or maybe…” Arthur hated to ask, but he knew it was necessary if wanted to stand the best chance of getting to the bottom of this. “Was it… me? Did I do something to offend you? I didn’t mean to slash you, you know.”

Merlin sighed and leaned back from his worktable. “No, Arthur. You haven’t done anything wrong. I swear.”

“Please, _please_ tell me this isn’t about a girl. Because if this is about some lover’s quarrel, maybe Guinevere _is_ the better person to be doing this.”

He blushed scarlet. “Hey, I listen to you blather on about Gwen all the time, and she’s my friend, so imagine how weird that is for me! But no. There’s no girl.”

_Fashion choice. Knew it._ For some reason that made something lighten inside him.

“Then _what_ , Merlin? You’re not deathly ill or anything are you? Or is it your mother? You’re leaving aren’t you? You’re going back home to take care of her, and you didn’t know how to tell me.”

“No! Honestly, way to go for the worst possible scenario. I’m not leaving, and I’m not dying, nor is anyone else that I know of.”

“Fine. Then why don’t you tell me what is happening, _Mer_ lin.” Arthur sat down and lounged himself comfortably on a stool. “Or else I’ll just have to stay here and keep asking until you tell me.”

“You would, wouldn’t you,” Merlin grumbled.

“Yes, I would. And consider yourself lucky that’s all I’m doing. You should hear what Guinevere wanted me to do. She was completely in favour of simply locking you in the stocks and letting the people throw rotten vegetables at your head until you cried ‘mercy.’”

He was definitely grinning now. “Oh yes, that sounds exactly like Gwen. I’m sure she volunteered to lead the charge, too.”

“She did. At first she suggested I simply stick you in the dungeons, but then she insisted that no, it had to be a public punishment. I do believe she’s in the lower town right now gathering heads of cabbage.”

“I’m sure she is. And, ehm, what was your counter-suggestion?”

“Exactly what I’m doing right now. And see how well it’s working so far? This is the most I’ve seen you smile in weeks.”

At that the smile faded slightly, so that it appeared more sad than amused. “Sorry. It’s…” He hesitated, biting his lip –which he must have been doing a lot lately, from the way they were cracked and peeling– then seemed to come to a decision. “I’ve been worried about Gaius.”

“Gaius? What’s wrong with him? I haven’t heard anything that would be a cause for concern.”

“Nothing’s _wrong_ with him per say. And before you ask, no, he’s not dying either. There’s just been a lot happening, you know. There was his… _friend_ coming and turning out to be involved –albeit unintentionally– in a plot to kill the king. Then all this with the witchfinder’s brother coming, and… everything he brought with him.” Merlin looked down at the floor as he muttered that last bit. He glanced back up again. “I’m just worried he might be under a lot of stress lately.”

Arthur breathed out a huge sigh of relief. He should have thought of such a thing. Of course Merlin was concerned for his mentor. Gaius was like his father. If something happened to his own father, Arthur would probably be out of sorts too.

“I’m sure Gaius can handle much more than you give him credit for. As for… _everything_ , you know I already promised you my father would never even think of applying that new law to Gaius. He’s a good physician, and a good person. He’s never given any of us a single reason not to trust him. I know it seems odd, but… sometimes you have to look at the person beyond the acts.”

Merlin was quiet for a moment. “…You’re right. Thank you.” He looked a bit distracted as he said it, but Arthur thought he also looked happier, which was what he had been aiming for. “If you don’t mind, though, I really would like to get back to this medicine making. I’m helping out, trying to lessen the load.”

“Of course.” Arthur levered himself off the stool and lowered himself onto the bench at the next table. “Right, where do we start?”

Merlin raised his eyebrows in surprise. “ _You’re_ going to help? To make medicines?”

“How hard can it be? I’m the Crown prince, Merlin. I should know how to do as many of the tasks I ask of my people as possible. Besides you never know when I might have to make one of these things in an emergency out in the woods.”

_Plus, we need to make up for these past two weeks. Start talking, Merlin._

Merlin shrugged and set another mortar and pestle in front of him filled with some other kind of plant. “Have at it.” He stood and gathered the book he had been reading, causing Arthur to panic for a moment that perhaps he was leaving. But Merlin simply took the volume to his room, pausing to glance through it for another moment, then closed the door before settling back down on the bench again. “Thank you, Arthur. Really. Thanks.”


	9. Chapter 9

Merlin moved the rest of the day with a spring in his step, which was probably rather peculiar considering he had just spent the last hour instructing the prince of Camelot in how to create an aging spell.

Of course, Arthur hadn’t _known_ that was what he was doing. He thought he was making a headache remedy. Merlin had had to work hard to keep Arthur from sampling it when he started to complain that Merlin was giving him a migraine.

_“You wanted me to **talk**!”_

He was fairly certain that nothing would happen until he recited the incantation, but there was no way he was risking turning the prince into a geriatric over a “fairly certain.”

But none of that mattered because despite the fact that really their situation hadn’t changed any –Merlin still couldn’t really tell Arthur, well, _anything_ –they had both made an effort to at least come to peace with that. And Arthur had really tried. He had gone so far as to seek out Merlin on his own grounds just to figure out what was going on (Arthur had actually chosen to do things that way because there was less of a chance Merlin would run away, but Merlin didn’t know that). Whether or not he had in truth needed to consult Gwen on how best to approach him was unclear, but either way it was nice.

Unfortunately, now he had to bottle that feeling, because he was about to do something very stupid that probably was going to result in Arthur feeling a renew sense of hatred of sorcery and also quite probably his own death. Which was why he hadn’t breathed a word of his plan to Gaius, nor was he going to.

Sometimes lately it felt like he was keeping as many secrets from Gaius as from Arthur.

But if he told Gaius, Gaius would insist that it was too dangerous, and they would find another way. Merlin, however, was running out of ideas. Unfortunately, try as they might, they were running out of water, too.

Arthur had given him a rather nasty cut on the practice court the other day that had had to be cleaned out, and when he woke up in the morning with a slight fever from a minor infection, Gaius had insisted on using a damp cloth to cool him off. He’d also been given a cup of water to drink, but Merlin had simply waited for Gaius to leave before dumping it back in the barrel.

He’d been skimping a lot with his own portion of the water, though he watched like a hawk to make sure Gaius wasn’t doing the same. Merlin was younger than the physician; he could handle the effects of minor dehydration much better. He didn’t let Morgana go without, either, not that she probably would have thought to. That was for more selfish reasons, though: keeping her pacified was his best course of action if he didn’t want yet _another_ crisis on his hands.

Of course, explaining why the level in the barrel had suddenly dropped overnight when he had to refill her had been a difficultly. Merlin finally ended up sitting through a strained berating after he admitted he had taken a bit to make their breakfast with and accidently dropped it.

The little bit of liquid he allowed himself was beginning to take its toll. He hadn’t been lying about not getting his beauty sleep, but he knew his haggard appearance had been caused by more than just a few late nights. Merlin was beginning to have a near constant headache himself. His throat and mouth were bone-dry, forcing him to take a rather nasty potion to stop himself from hacking constantly.

The decreasing water supply was only one reason why Merlin had decided that tonight had to be the night to go forth. Tonight was also the only night Uther himself wasn’t in residence at the castle. The king had travelled to visit a fiefdom nearby in preparation for the large scale spread of the poison. Gaius had accompanied him –Merlin had rejoiced at the thought that his guardian could spend even a small time unafraid of the food he ate– which meant Merlin might be able to get some leniency in punishments of all kinds. It also meant that there was no one around to bail him out if something went wrong, but Merlin knew he had to take that chance.

Taking the powder in hand, Merlin stood over a large bowl. Making sure he had both the spell and the counter-spell firmly in his head, he began to chant, allowing the powder to trickle from his hands “ _Miht dagan, beþecce me. Adeadaþ þisne gast min freondum ond min feondum._ ”

He felt… odd. Well, he didn’t know exactly how it was supposed to feel, having never actually _been_ old before, so he supposed this could be normal? Suddenly Merlin felt an urge of sympathy for Gaius. Next time he saw the old physician, he was going to tell him not to bother climbing the steps each morning to make sure Merlin was awake. The way Merlin’s old knees popped as he took an experimental step forward, Gaius must have experienced on a daily basis. Merlin’s whole body ached like he’d just done a week’s worth of physical labour for Arthur in a day.

Or it could have just been the exertion of such a complicated spell when he hadn’t been sleeping or drinking and was still fighting off an infection. That couldn’t help.

The worst was his arm. The wound must have reopened from the way his bicep stung. That was annoying. Especially since he’d have to ditch the sling for this endeavour. It would be far too suspicious if an old sorcerer had the same injury as the young manservant. Instead Merlin bound the cut as best he could under his large robed disguise.

Task complete, Merlin steeled himself to step out into the corridor. This was probably the worst plan he had ever come up with. Including the time he attempted to out himself in front of the king’s entire council in an effort to save Gwen.

Well, no one had ever accused him of being a master strategist.

The corridor was deserted. That was perfect. Merlin had at least a semi-intelligent plan cooked up to accompany his stupid one. Semi being the key word there.

Quickly –or as quickly as his now old bones would take him –Merlin made his way to the vaults. That was his best guess of where they would be storing the rest of the poison. The vaults were where basically everything Uther didn’t want anyone else to get their hands on was stored. He believed them to be impregnable. Which made Merlin chuckle, because having trouble getting into the vaults was not high on his long list of what could go wrong with this plan.

Indeed it was child’s play to distract the guards long enough to sneak past, the lock putty under his hands. Merlin slipped inside with no one the wiser. Now it was time for the part he knew would be difficult: finding the damnable stuff.

He could only hope it was being stored in the same chest Darius had first brought it in. If it was simply sitting alone or in another crate, Merlin wasn’t sure he would ever find it. And if he did, there was no way he could be certain that the vial he held in his hands was the right one.

The vaults were filled with magical items Uther hadn’t dared to get rid of during the Purge. Gaius had told him they were here –right after he warned him never _ever_ to use the information to attempt to liberate the confiscated goods– explaining that although Uther had burned most items he found, the worry that he might need them at least for study to combat a magical attack had driven him to keep a few things in storage.

It made sense to Merlin that if this was some kind of storeroom for weapons against sorcery, then a poison that could eliminate it would fit right in.

At least he hoped.

An hour later –at least it felt like an hour; he couldn’t be sure –Merlin was still coming up empty. He had discovered more gems of sorcery than he could hope to master in a lifetime. If he made it through this trip, he was already planning future ones to try to steal a few items for his own use. At least the ones he knew what they were. There were crystals –which he kept far away from –and jewellery and boxes with symbols he couldn’t read. There was a set of chains Merlin also kept away from which gave him an eerie feeling. There was a jar of softly glowing powder.

But no vial of poison.

Merlin’s arm was beginning to throb with a steady pulse. Never had he more regretted his lack of ability to heal himself –not that he was a strong hand at healing others, but still. If he could only even dull the pain, it might help, though Gaius would berate him for it later, lecturing him about people who ignored their pain and ended up with far worse injuries than they had started with.

Finally, _finally,_ Merlin came across the large chest. Despite being a new acquisition, the chest was buried beneath large boxes. Too exhausted for magic but aching too much to lift the crates on top of it, Merlin settled for checking the contents to ensure they weren’t extremely breakable before shoving them to the ground, wincing at the loud thud. He was forced to use a small spell on the lock, though even the beginner’s charm left him as drained as if he’d done something huge.

Three vials lay within. Merlin scooped them all up and stowed them in the hidden pouch he’d brought him, tied to his waist beneath the robes. Gaius would probably only need one to run his experiments with, but there was no point in leaving any of it to Uther’s disposal.

A clatter behind him sent Merlin diving behind a stack of crates. A sharp pain as he banged his arm against a corner made him bite his tongue as he fought to hold back a yelp. Merlin crouched, breathing heavily, as the footsteps grew nearer. A shadowy figure appeared, stopping at the same chest he had just been digging around in. Merlin held his breath as the figure took a look inside and let out a string of whispered curses to find the chest empty. Then they turned and ran back into the dark.

Merlin stayed frozen until he heard the distinct clink of the vault door shutting again. Then he let out a sharp breath of relief. He had no idea who that figure had been, but it only made him gladder that he had taken everything. The mystery person may have been another sorcerer, but that didn’t mean they were on his side.

For some reason it usually didn’t.

Prize in hand, Merlin made his own way back to the entrance of the vaults. With the last dregs of his strength he unlocked the door and let himself out. He distracted the guards not with magic, but an old child’s trick, throwing a rock from the ground down the opposite direction, sending them scurrying off to investigate the source of the noise.

Merlin pat himself on the back for a job well done as he crept back towards his quarters. He hadn’t even had to use his back-up plan. Gaius would be proud of him, at least he would when he was done being angry at him.

“You there! Stop!”

Okay, perhaps it was a bit early to be patting himself on the back just yet. Pulling energy from who knew where, Merlin fled from the far too familiar voice. Hiding in the shadows of an alcove, quickly he whispered the counter-spell to turn himself young again.

Nothing happened.

Panicked, Merlin tried again and again, but still nothing happened. His hands remained papery and gnarled and it felt like the rest of him had too.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Merlin jumped as the voice came right in his ear. Strong hands gripped him by the arm and pulled him into the light. Merlin kept his gaze fixed on the floor, hoping Arthur wouldn’t look at him too closely. There was no _reason_ for him to suspect the man he had in custody was Merlin, but reason had never stopped Arthur before.

“Who are you? What do you think you’re doing sneaking about the castle?”

_I’m your manservant, Merlin. I’m trying to stop you from stealing the magic of my kin, several of which you call friend. Oh, and also save my own life in the process, I suppose._

“I am… Dragoon! The Great!” Well, he’d always wanted a colourful moniker before. At least it was better than Merlin the Idiot.

“Dragoon… the Great…?” Merlin couldn’t even blame Arthur for his suspicious tone. Even the dimmest of Camelot’s guards would have been able to see that for the lie it was. “And must I ask once more why you’re skulking about like this, Master _Dragoon_?”

“I could ask you the same thing! Haven’t you ever heard of going to sleep, you great clotpole?” Something about being in disguise made Merlin bold. If Arthur ever found out –when, _when_ he found out –he would be killed just for this, but it was worth it to see the prince’s dumbstruck look now.

“I am the crown prince! I have every right to go wherever I please, _when_ ever I please!” A smirk replaced his outrage. “A right you do not have. Were you aware, Master Dragoon, that there was a break in tonight? It’s really not safe to be wandering about at the moment. Oh, but perhaps you did know. We thought we had caught the culprits, but we did wonder if perhaps they had an accomplice.” Arthur gripped him tighter –on his uninjured arm, thank goodness– and dragged him along.

_Culprits? Accomplice?_ Arthur had to be talking about the figure who had snuck into the vaults while Merlin was in there. Well, at least he would have the answer to one mystery before the end.

_Stop being melodramatic, Merlin. This isn’t the end. Arthur’s not king, and magic’s not free yet, so it can’t be._

Ironically, this had actually been his back-up plan. Get caught performing magic, get someone to bring him the poison to subdue him, steal the poison and escape. Unfortunately, being the back-up plan, it hadn’t exactly been… planned out? So while so far everything else was going as he would expect, Merlin didn’t really know how the whole _escape_ part was going to work.

Especially since he was old and tired. Merlin only hoped he had enough strength to maintain the tricky spell while in Arthur’s presence.

Arthur took him to the council chambers. It was empty except for a pair of guards and a set of kneeling figures on the floor near the throne. Arthur threw Merlin down beside them. Casting a glance to his right, he found himself looking at a pair of children, a boy and a girl with wide eyes and bedraggled clothes, hardly older than ten. Neither could have possibly been the one from the vaults.

“We had been rather curious how mere children could have broken into the castle. I supposed it makes more sense that they had you to help them. Though how on earth you or your people would think that an old man and a set of infants could possibly be successful in whatever you were doing is beyond me.”

“A lot of things are beyond you, apparently,” Merlin muttered, though apparently not quietly enough.

“Was your plan to snark me to death? Because, honestly, that could work.”

“If it hasn’t happened yet, I kind of doubt it.” _Shut **up** , **Mer** lin!_

“Alright, one of you is going to tell me why you’re here in the next count of three. _Not you!_ ”

Merlin stiffened as he waited for one of the children to speak up. There was no way to tell them what to say, not that Merlin knew himself. He could only hope that they were smart enough to know that Arthur had a soft spot for kids that his father was missing. If they could squeeze out a few tears and blubber an apology, they might get out of this, no explanation needed.

He probably wouldn’t be so lucky, but two out of three wasn’t so bad.

“We were looking for our mother,” squeaked the older of the two, the girl. “We can’t find her. Someone said the king might know.”

“And why would the king know where your mother is?” Arthur’s voice had indeed softened a bit.

“We don’t know! They just said it!” The little boy burst into the required tears. Merlin saw this as his place to step in, hoping the pair wouldn’t contradict him.

“Why shouldn’t the king know? I thought you were the _crown prince_. Don’t you know what’s going on with your own people? Shouldn’t you be doing what you can to help them?”

“No one could possibly know the location of every subject in Camelot,” Arthur snapped. Then he sighed and rubbed his face. “I’m sorry, but we can’t help you; you were lied to. There’s nothing we can do.”

Merlin saw the pity Arthur was hiding behind his eyes. He probably thought what everyone in the room did, including possibly even the two kids: their mother had likely run off and deserted them. Sadly, it was common if they could no longer support their family. Although depending on how far they had come, their mother could have been taken by slavers. Either way, there really was no way to help them.

So why had they risked everything to break into the castle?

“Take them to the inn; tell them the crown is paying for a room for the night.” Arthur glared down at Merlin. “You are receiving clemency just this once. Next time I will not hesitate to throw you in the dungeons.”

The guards hauled Merlin to his feet. The two children, upset and confused, followed them out of the chamber and through the castle. He would have to figure out something to do with them. He couldn’t just abandon them. Maybe one of the people in the lower town could take them in.

They remained silent until they were tucked into their rented room. Then the two backed up against the wall, clearly terrified they had just been lumped together with some kind of ancient serial killer.

“Don’t worry,” Merlin said inanely, as if as a serial killer his word would be trusted. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is –” Did he give his real name? It was unlikely these two were ever going to speak to Arthur again. But no, if he was going to find them a home later, as himself hopefully, it would be quite a coincident for there to be two people named Merlin running around when he hadn’t yet met another one himself. “I’m Dragoon. Do you know what happened to your mother?” Maybe they’d just run away from home.

“The bad men took her. They didn’t like her. Or us. But she hid us so they didn’t see.”

The older girl punched her brother in the arm. There was something familiar about her face. “Don’t tell him that! Don’t you remember nothing Momma said? They’ll take you away, too!”

Things started to click in Merlin’s head as he looked at her. A forgotten plea rang in his head. _“I do this for them. Tell them I’m sorry. Please, tell them-”_

“Are you druids?” he asked softly. “Was your mother a sorceress?”

“See!” The girl shrieked. “He’s gonna take us away! I told you to keep your mouth shut!” The boy burst into tears again.

Merlin quickly shushed them. The last thing he needed was the innkeeper coming up to check on them. “I’m not going to take anyone away! I promise. I’m like you. If I turned you in, I’d have to do the same to myself. But I think I… I think I can tell you what happened to your mother.”

“What? How? Can you get her back for us?”

“I’m sorry… I…” Merlin didn’t know how to tell them the truth. “She was here, in Camelot. The bad men had her. I’m sorry, but she was sold. Because of her magic. I don’t know where.”

He had to ride out the tears this time, as both children sobbed.

“Do you… you know, have somewhere to go?” If they were druids, there should be a group somewhere they could go to. They couldn’t stay here. Not even the most sympathetic family in Camelot would risk taking in a pair of druid children.

“We can go home. I guess. What other choice is there?” The girl sniffed.

“I really am sorry.” Especially since he really ought to go with them to make sure they were safe. But right now he was far too tired. And tomorrow there would be no time. Looking at their faces, Merlin wished he could tell them their mother had made some kind of sacrifice that would save the lives of magic users everywhere, but unfortunately he couldn’t. But maybe there was something he could say. “Your mother got what she wanted. She protected you. That’s what she cared about.”

“How do you know?”

“She told me. And so…” he sighed. He was going to regret this. “I’m going to help protect you too. I’ll take you to your group.”

His aching body protested loudly as they snuck back out of the inn. _At least I’ll try. If I don’t pass out first._


	10. Chapter 10

Morgana lay back on her bed, for once only her own thoughts keeping her awake instead of her nightmares.

Not that she had had a nightmare in a long time, not since Morgause gave her her bracelet. She didn’t miss them in the slightest. With all she was risking being a sorceress in the first place, she deserved to be able to enjoy the good aspects of her magic without all the bad ones, didn’t she?

Especially since neither part might be with her for much longer. She hadn’t been able to get a sample of the cure for Morgause. Morgana had tried, subtly wheedling Uther for days before he gave up the location of the vials, but when she went to look for them, they were gone. Not the entire case, but all of its contents. Which meant that someone had stolen them and didn’t want anyone to know.

On the one hand Morgana was pleased about this development. Less of the cure around meant less chances of her being made to drink it. But on the other hand, it meant there was nothing she could give Morgause to try to help her. In the end she bottled up some of the effected water, handing it over to her sister and claiming it was pure potion.

Because curse it all, Merlin was right. That galled Morgana more than she could ever admit, but he was. If she told Morgause about the tainted water, her sister would insist on doing something to help her, with no concern for herself. Annoyed as she had been that it had taken Morgause so long to come looking for her when she missed their meeting in the woods after Morgana had fallen down the stairs, she’d been twice as terrified to find her sister had come right into the castle to look for her. Morgana couldn’t risk anything happening to her.

Besides, she wouldn’t lose _everything_ if somehow some of that potion snuck past her guard and got into her system. She might no longer have magic, but she still would have Morgause, and she still would be a rightful heir to the throne. No potion could take away her birthright.

It wasn’t that she didn’t care about her magic. It was a useful tool, now that she knew how to use it. With magic she’d done things she could only dream of –including some things she actually had literally dreamed about. But she didn’t need to do those things. Or at least she didn’t need to be the one to do them. Morgause had been trained by the high priestesses from the time she was but a child. Even after a little over a year of lessons, Morgana knew she was still nowhere near her sister’s level.

But what did it all matter if she herself wasn’t a sorceress? Wasn’t that her big secret, the thing that held her apart from the rest of her (unacknowledged) family? If Arthur became king, he would never turn her away from Camelot, even after Uther was gone and she was no longer a ward. No one had ever pressured her toward an arranged marriage –oh, she knew most people expected her to marry Arthur, but it was obvious now why Uther himself had never brought up the idea –so if she wanted, she could go find a nice prince and become queen of another kingdom.

As of that moment, with her secret hidden, they had no reason to feel anything towards her but love and respect. If her secret was gone, did she have any reason not to feel the same?

If she didn’t have magic, she wouldn’t have to worry about not being accepted, about being killed. But would she really hate Uther less? He would still be unjustly massacring sorcerers and magic-sympathizers. Was she really so selfish that only if it affected her personally would she care to do anything about it?

No. No, she wasn’t. Morgause would still be an enemy of the kingdom. She would fight for Morgause.

Morgause who had a plan. What this plan was, she hadn’t told Morgana, but apparently it was the solution to all their problems. Morgana didn’t even have to do anything but wait. Their time was coming soon, her sister promised. Tomorrow night.

Tomorrow night and it would all be over.

Or perhaps that was the time when it would all begin.

* * *

By the time Merlin returned to the citadel just before dawn, he wasn’t sure standing was even something he was doing consciously anymore. The night had been an insane mess of running, hiding, guards in too much abundance, and druids in too little. Nomadic as they had to be, the group the two belonged to had moved on since they last saw them. If it hadn’t been for the leaders’ habit of drilling into every member the next two back-up locations just in case of separation, Merlin wasn’t sure what they would have done.

He had grown so excited to go see the druids, too. He had hoped they could help, either with a counter to the poison or at the very least with a way to get fresh water. They couldn’t even stop at any of the springs or brooks on the way with the plethora of guards wandering about. But when Merlin and the children finally came within sight of the sleeping camp, he was shooed away by a sentry practically before he could utter a word.

“Thank you, Emrys, for returning our young ones,” he had whispered. “Now I shall help you.” He then murmured what sounded like nearly the same counter-spell Merlin had tried earlier that night. Suddenly Merlin felt his body shifting as the aging spell melted away.

“How did you… Wait, how did you do that?” He had never even told the children about the spell, not wanting to frighten them more by his hidden identity.

“You will soon learn that it is not the how that matters. It is the why. A great turning is coming, Emrys. Prepare yourself.”

Then they were gone, faded into the woods.

Merlin fell onto a bench in an exhausted heap. His arm had bled through the bandages, soaking his sleeve -he was quite sure now he had definitely torn a fair few of his stitches. His head pounded, and though his muscles no longer ached, they now felt like they had turned to lead. But Arthur expected him back to work today, and “I was up all night breaking into the vault stealing your weapons and then returning the druid children you arrested for breaking into the castle back to their home all while magically disguised as an old man” probably wasn’t going to go over well as an excuse. Especially since that same old man had freely insulted Arthur with every breath.

Heaving himself up, Merlin did his best to re-bandage his arm and settle it back in a sling. He didn’t dare try to heal it with the shape he was in right now, and it would take more skill than he had to re-stitch it from this angle. The way his hands were shaking, he had a feeling he’d do more damage than good. No, he would have to wait until Gaius returned and plead overworking.

Merlin took a tiny sip of water to quench his thirst and ease his scratchy throat. It didn’t do much, but it was something. He downed a potion for the cough and another for his headache. Merlin was regretting using his disguise to make fun of Arthur now. Even after their progress yesterday, it was unlikely the prince was going to be in a giving enough mood to allow him the day off.

He went down to the kitchens to fetch Arthur’s breakfast. Gaius had forbid heavy lifting, but Merlin could still heft a simple tray with one arm. Or maybe he couldn’t. His arm quavered dangerously as he fought to overcome his muscle fatigue, threatening to spill the lot. Gwen spotted his struggling as she came into the kitchen and immediately came over to help.

“Don’t worry about it, Merlin,” she insisted, brushing aside his weak protests. “Lady Morgana’s not been eating much lately –some new diet one of the ladies told her about. Not that she _needs_ a diet, please don’t tell anyone I said she _needed_ to be on a diet. It’ll all fit on one tray. We’ll stop by Arthur’s room first then I’ll take Morgana hers. She won’t mind.”

Merlin was too tired to fight it. Gwen was perfectly happy to walk along in silence, thank goodness for his still dully throbbing head. At least until they reached Arthur’s door.

“Are you feeling alright, Merlin? Not your arm, obviously, I know about your arm, but the rest of you? Don’t think I mean it badly, but… you don’t look well. I know Arthur talked to you yesterday; are things not okay between you two still?”

“No, Gwen, it’s fine. We’re fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Just tired. Lots to be doing, you know.” He gave a not quite fake yawn as evidence.

“Maybe you should ask for some time off. I’m sure Arthur would give it to you the way he’s been worrying lately. I’m just afraid you’re working too hard.”

Honestly Merlin would love to have time off. Also a large goblet or six of water. “ _I’m_ _fine_. Really. Gaius was gone last night, and I had to deal with a… patient.”

Suddenly the concern was gone and Gwen was beaming. “Oh! I _see_. Well, I hope you and your ‘ _patient’_ get more sleep tonight. I’m sure you both need it.” She flicked the ends of Merlin’s purple scarf with one hand then skipped into the prince’s room.

“Wait! No, that’s not what I-” His sputtering trailed off as his face heated with a deep blush.

Arthur didn’t even look confused that Gwen was delivering his breakfast. “I was wondering if you were going to find a way to manage that. Half as many arms is sure to make you twice as clumsy. Glad to see you have _some_ common sense, Merlin.”

“Probably got knocked out of you and into me on the training courts,” he muttered under his breath.

Arthur either didn’t hear or ignored him. “I made a list of chores you can do for today, all Gaius approved. Someone else already took my laundry down to the washroom; all you have to do is scrub it.”

“See, Merlin? I told you Arthur would be understanding. Sire, be sure to let him go early tonight. He has some sleep to catch up on. Merlin, I’ll bring Arthur’s meals, but no more late nights. Not until I approve.” She winked.

“Yes, mother,” the men sighed, Arthur grinning while Merlin just rolled his eyes.

Gwen sniffed, not put off at all. “Well _someone_ has to mother you two, since you aren’t willing to do it for yourselves. Now play nice and remember no dessert before meals.” She gave Merlin a kiss on the cheek and smiled fondly at Arthur before bouncing out the door with Morgana’s food.

Merlin was glad Arthur had his own breakfast to focus on so he couldn’t ask many questions. He did try to keep up his own stream of chatter while he was in the room, though, remembering how his silence had been what tipped Arthur off that something was wrong before.

The list Arthur gave him was blessedly short, though it couldn’t have been short enough. Feeling a bit stronger now that the headache potion had kicked in, Merlin decided to just throw caution to the wind for once and risk using his still feeble magic for his chores. Terrible as he felt forcing a bit of power through, just lifting his arms was a challenge. He didn’t bother to go to the prince for further tasks once he finished, instead returning to his room for a well-deserved nap.

“Merlin, what did you do?”

Merlin jumped as he was accosted the moment he entered the physician’s chambers. “What- I didn’t do anything!”

“Then why did the guards tell the king and I about an intruder?” Gaius demanded, brow narrowed in fury. “Can’t you stay out of trouble for one night!”

“That was an old man and a couple of children.”

“That was you, and we both know it. You’re lucky Arthur doesn’t know it too! An aging spell? What were you thinking? Do you even understand how dangerous that was? Not to mention foolish! What if Arthur had made you drink the magic suppressor? You’re lucky to have escaped as well off as you did!”

“I know, Gaius, I know. But I had to do something! You told me yourself I needed to find out where the cure was being held so we could get at it.”

Gaius groaned, “Why could I not be blessed with a child with even a modicum of intelligence? At least tell me you managed to accomplish one of those goals.”

Merlin grinned despite his mentor’s scolding. “I got it all, Gaius. Every last drop.”

“Good boy.” Gaius rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Well, come on then. Bring it to me so we can do this.”

Merlin fetched the pouch from where he’d dropped it on his nightstand, too tired to even hide it before. Gaius took it and pulled out the little bottles, examining them closely.

“This should be more than enough to analyse. Let us hope that now a solution might be found, and quickly.”

Merlin personally thought that moment couldn’t come soon enough.

He’d be right.

* * *

Gaius woke him as the sun went down. Merlin could have slept longer –indeed, he felt like he’d never slept at all –but the physician insisted that he go see to his master, even if Gwen was bringing the tray up for him.

As he rose from the bed, Merlin swayed on his feet as his vision went white and a tingling numbness swept through his body like a bucket of water had been dumped over him. His hand shot out towards the wall to steady him until he could see straight again. His head felt like it had been split by an axe again, all the potions he had taken earlier completely worn off.

“Here, my boy. Take this,” Gaius instructed as Merlin emerged from his room. The physician held out a large cup of water. “Don’t give me that look. I heard you coughing up a lung while you were sleeping. Drink it, every last drop.”

Merlin acquiesced with an inner grimace. He was going to have to risk it and go get more soon. A sneaked examination of Gaius showed his guardian wasn’t in much better shape, and that was with Merlin keeping a close eye to make sure he wasn’t skimping. Which he probably was when Merlin wasn’t around. Unfortunately he couldn’t see everything.

“So far I have at least determined a part of what it is we’re dealing with here. It seems to contain the blood of the gean canach, a beast which feeds on the magic of others. I had thought they were all killed in the Great Purge, but it seems either at least one survived or someone harvested their blood and held onto it all these years.”

Merlin perked up at the news, despite its grim nature. “Do you know how to counteract it?”

“Not as of yet. But don’t lose hope, my boy,” he cautioned as Merlin’s shoulders slumped again. “Knowing your enemy is half the battle.”

“Maybe, but unfortunately it’s knowing how to defeat them that’s the vital bit.”

Gwen was just leaving as he got to the Arthur’s room, giving him a slightly concerned smile. Merlin grinned back, hoping she still harboured her misguided thought he’d been up all night with a girl. Or at least he did as long as she refrained from asking him any questions about it.

Arthur sat in his chair, twirling his dagger on the tabletop. He looked up as Merlin came in, and Merlin could have sworn he saw a hint of relief in his eyes. “Just tidy up, then you can go. Remember, Guinevere insisted I give you the night off. In fact, sit and eat. You look like you haven’t done that all day.”

“I just ate with Gaius,” Merlin lied quickly, shuffling across the room to collect the crumpled bits of parchment from Arthur’s desk.

Arthur raised his eyebrow disbelievingly but didn’t press the issue. Merlin continued his task, glad that there wasn’t that much to do. The prince must not have spent much time in his room that day.

Reaching down to pick up a discarded shirt, Merlin straightened to be swamped with another wave of dizziness. With no wall nearby, he didn’t recover as gracefully as before, his knees buckling and sending him stumbling into the edge of Arthur’s bed.

“Merlin?”

“I’m fine. Just tripped. You know me.” He took a tentative step forward, but it was too soon, and the next thing he saw was Arthur’s face looming fuzzily over him.

“What just happened? Merlin, are you ill? Why didn’t you say something, you idiot?” Arthur’s voice came from a distance, despite his apparent proximity. Merlin couldn’t bring himself to move, enjoying the ease of simply laying there, his cognition still hazy. “Here, this will help.”

Something cool touched his mouth as he felt darkness taking over once more _._


	11. Chapter 11

_Merlin… Merlin…_

“Merlin, wake up.”

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut tighter, swatting a hand groggily at the voice that dared intrude on his dreams. “Go ‘way.”

“ _Mer_ lin.” A hand gripped his flailing arm and yanked, sending him tumbling to the floor with an _oomph_. “You’re going to be late. _Again._ ”

Sighing heavily, Merlin rolled himself upright. “Remind me why I put up with you?” he groused.

“That’s a good question. If you come up with an answer, be sure to let me know.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, tossing his displaced blanket back on the cot and scrubbing at his face to remove the last vestiges of sleep. A fruitless -quite literally- glance at the table gained his friend a pillow to the face. “Oh, I know. It’s because you couldn’t survive a day without me. No breakfast?”

Will just grinned. “Nah, thought I’d let my skivvy handle that.”

“I’m not your skivvy. I’m Gaius’s. Or I’m his assistant, that is, not- oh, never mind.”

“Yeah, yeah, the physician in training, I know,” Will retorted cheekily. “How about you put all that fixing knowledge to work and fix me up some grub?”

Merlin didn’t bother to snap back that that wasn’t even close to the kinds of things he was taught. Will wouldn’t listen to it anyway. Four years of experience had taught him that.

As he went about making breakfast and a midday Will could take to the forge with him, Merlin pondered over that question as he found himself doing every morning. Why, four years after they had come to Camelot, was he still here with Will?

Comfort of the familiar was probably one of the answers. When their mothers had sent them to Camelot all that time ago, ostensibly to seek help from the king against raiders, Merlin had understood why they were sent together. Will knew how to fight, thanks to his father, should they be attacked by bandits on the way there, while Merlin’s silver tongue could convince the sun not to shine. When they had arrived and were turned down, Merlin had been prepared to go back and face the consequences when Will informed him they had never been expected to succeed. And now that they hadn’t, their mothers wished them to stay in Camelot where they were safe.

It turned out that was why Will was actually there. To keep Merlin from trying to go back.

After much convincing, they had set up in a little home in the lower town, Will apprenticing to the local blacksmith –and then taking over when the smith was later executed by the king– and Merlin finding a job with the court physician, whom he knew to be a friend of his mother’s. Four years later the two friends were still together, despite Gaius’s offer of a room in his chambers.

Will was all he had left. Merlin had insisted on going back to Ealdor after the winter, but they returned to find most of the village had been destroyed by hunger. Since then Merlin had made friends with Gaius and Gwen, one of the serving girls, and he rather liked the lady Morgana –although there seemed to be something not quite right about her at times– but mostly he had kept to himself.

There was also a feeling like he could lose Will at any time. Like his friend wasn’t supposed to be there and his presence was some cheat of fate that never should have happened.

Merlin tried not to dwell on that feeling.

_Merlin…_

Snatching his own breakfast up –unfortunately Will was right, he _was_ going to be late –Merlin dashed out the door and made his way to the castle.

Gaius simply tutted and shook his head when Merlin came dashing in with one of his bushel-full of excuses. “Your deliveries are there on the table. I was just about to go myself if you hadn’t shown up. There’s an extra poultice there for the prince. His highness was kicked by his horse last night. See that he uses it, not just tosses it away.”

Merlin rolled his eyes as he went about his task. He could see the prat of a prince doing such a thing. While Merlin could say he was on fairly good terms with most of the nobles in the castle, even the king’s ward, the king’s son was another story. While Prince Arthur was generally arrogant and self-centred in his manner around most people, he seemed to have a special place in his heart for tormenting Merlin. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to gain the prince’s ire, but it had to be something.

Perhaps it had something to do with their ill-fated first meeting, but honestly, the way he’d been picking on his poor servant had been uncalled for. Someone needed to straighten the prat out, but luckily it wasn’t going to be him. Merlin felt bad for the poor soul who had to attend him.

It wasn’t the prince who opened the door to his knock, luckily, but his wife, Princess Elena. Merlin felt himself automatically relax. He much preferred to deal with the slightest clumsy but always kind noble.

“Hello, Merlin! What can we do for you?”

“I, ehm, have a poultice for Prince Arthur. For his leg.”

“Yes, of course! Please, come on in,” she stepped back with a smile so Merlin could enter. “I hope this remedy works quickly. I’ve been having a time keeping Arthur from wanting to bound back down to the stables to get back on the horse again.”

“I think you’re confusing me with you,” came the scowl from the bed, where the laid-up Prince reclined with his arms crossed, paperwork spread across the sheets. “I’m just saying if I don’t get out of here to practice, I’m going to go mad.”

“What’s to say you aren’t already?” Merlin grumbled. Princess Elena hid a giggle behind her hand, but luckily the prince hadn’t heard. A bit louder he said, “I’m supposed to see that you put this to proper use, sire.”

“Yes, well, if we wanted _proper_ , Gaius should have come himself, shouldn’t he?” the prince sneered.

Gritting his teeth to stop the myriad comebacks that threatened to erupt, Merlin ground out, “If you wish, your highness, I can have Gaius come back later to assist you.”

“No, Merlin, stay. Arthur, be nice,” Elena scolded. “He’s trying to help you, and I’m sure Gaius wouldn’t have sent him if he didn’t know what he was doing. Something you would _know_ if you spent half as much time with the people as you do with the horse that kicked you.”

The look on Arthur’s face hinted that he wanted to snap, _“Again, I think you’re referring to yourself,”_ but he held back. Merlin gave her a small grateful grin. He had always liked the effect the free-spirited princess had on her husband. She had made him much more tolerable to be around, which considering Merlin still didn’t care to be within an entire castle’s range of the condescending, pretentious, overbearing prince (as opposed to not caring to be in the same kingdom), was saying something.

Sometimes he got a twinge that seemed to contradict that opinion, some kind of urge to protect instead of scorn. But that was probably his “bleeding heart” as Will called it.

_Merlin…_

Merlin finished his task as quickly as possible. Prince Arthur had obviously decided the best solution was to simply ignore him entirely, which Merlin was completely fine with, going about the process of inspecting and dressing the swollen bruise in silence, or as much silence as the talkative Elena would allow. The moment he was done he began his retreat, informing the princess she could call on him or Gaius anytime if the pain got worse.

“Be sure that it is _Gaius_ who comes next time,” the prat ordered. “I _am_ the king’s son, after all. I think I deserve a bit higher level treatment than the physician’s dogsbody.”

Elena turned on her husband to scold again, and Merlin dashed from the room before things got heated. To think the two of them could have been happier, had one of them only had the courage to turn down the arranged marriage…

**_Merlin…_ **

Merlin scrubbed his ear. Why couldn’t he get that voice out of his head? That oddly… _familiar_ voice…

That night was a banquet in honour of, well, something; Merlin hadn’t really been paying that much attention. He was in attendance as Gaius’s assistant, though mostly he hung back on the wall with the other servants. The entertainment for the night was starting, some famous noble singer named Lady Helen. The woman took her place and began her song.

Suddenly Merlin found himself yawning. Himself and every other person in the hall. Instantly he clapped his hands over his ears. He knew many people found lullabies soothing, but not on this scale. It had to be magic.

Lady Helen began to glide forward, her song crescendoing to new heights that fought past his feeble safeguard, his legs giving out and sending him leaning heavily back against the wall. Cobwebs began to grow over the other attendees as they dropped off to sleep. As he fought to keep his eyes open, the lady reached into the sleeve of her gown and pulled out a dagger, her eyes trained on the prince.

Panic tore through his lull, but he was unable to move, his body locked in position. He had to save him! He had to do something! But it would take magic to save the prince, and one thing Merlin had never had was magic.

In one smooth motion, never missing a beat of her melody, the lady launched her projectile. The last thing Merlin saw was the blade piercing Arthur’s heart.

_Young warlock… I’m sorry. Your destiny was not meant to end this way._


	12. Chapter 12

“Merlin? _Merlin?_ ”

Arthur rushed into the corridor, stopping a passing servant and sending her for Gaius. Back in his chambers, Merlin still lay unconscious on the floor. Carefully Arthur scooped him up and laid him on the bed. Merlin stirred slightly but did not wake.

_I should have been paying more attention_. Pacing the room as he waited for the physician, Arthur smacked himself internally for not noticing his manservant’s condition earlier. No, that wasn’t right. He _had_ seen some signs –the dark circles around his eyes, weight loss, sluggish behaviour – he just hadn’t done anything about them; he’d believed Merlin when he said it was just stress. Well, obviously it was more than just stress, now wasn’t it? Did people pass out from stress? Or maybe it was his arm. Gaius had said the infection was gone now, but maybe he was still sick from it? Regardless, Merlin was getting the next forever off until he could manage to not be an unconscious lump.

Suddenly Merlin began spasming as a coughing fit ripped from his lungs. Arthur rushed back over to the bed, bringing the goblet of wine he’d offered earlier in between faints. Slowly Merlin opened his eyes, confusion and a small bit of panic shining through. “Ar.. Arthur? You… you’re–” More hacking.

“Shh, just relax, Merlin. Gaius is on his way. Drink some more of this.”

Merlin’s eyes widened, and he flinched. “Drink?”

“Yes, drink.” Arthur helped him sit up, which was a difficult task when the servant’s body had gone almost completely stiff, an impressive feat for someone who was clearly not fully aware yet. “I may not be a physician, but I do know liquid helps sooth your throat.” He lifted the goblet to Merlin’s mouth, seeing the boy’s hands were shivering too badly to hold it himself.

But Merlin was now shaking his head, lips clenched tight. “Don’t be an idiot, _Mer_ lin. If you’re so worried about taking from a prince’s meal, you can go get me some more yourself later.”

Merlin simply shook his head more violently and started to scoot away from him across the bed. His voice cracked as he stammered, “Dr-drink _more_ , you said. You –you gave me some already?

“ _Yes, Merlin._ Honestly, did you hit your head or something when you fainted like a girl? Or was the fainting itself part of some malady of the brain?”

Merlin completely ignored the jibe. “What’s in that?”

“It’s just diluted wine. You know, like I _always_ have. Merlin! What is _wrong_ with you tonight?” Arthur exclaimed as his servant backed up enough to roll off the bed, trembling near enough to send him back to the ground again. All his initial confusion from waking up was gone, replaced entirely with full-blown panic.

“No. No no no no no no no. Please no.”

“Merlin? I knew this was going to happen, you foolish boy. I’m sorry, sire, he’s a bit–” Gaius cut off his exasperated rant, taking in the scene before him. “What’s wrong; what happened?”

“I don’t know! One minute he’s fine, then suddenly he passes out, then when he wakes up he’s like this!”

“Merlin?” Gaius crept forward. His ward ignored him, continuing to mutter furiously to himself, keeping the bed between them –or at least between him and Arthur –like a barricade. “Was there anything else you can remember, sire?”

“He seemed very preoccupied with the wine I tried to give him.”

Now it was Gaius’s turn to freeze. “ _Tried?_ ” he asked carefully. Arthur nodded slowly, more confused than ever. “So you did not succeed in getting him to drink any?”

“I managed to give him a little bit, when he was still out of it. What’s the big fuss about, Gaius? Has Merlin developed some kind of wine phobia?”

“Not exactly.” Gaius turned from the prince and set all of his attention on Merlin, moving towards him again more confidently now, though worry still tinged his features. “It’s alright, my boy. It’s going to be fine.”

“ _No, it’s not!_ ” Merlin sobbed, slumping to the floor. “I _saw_ it, Gaius! It’s going to be the opposite of fine! Stupid, stupid water!”

Something clicked that Arthur truly hoped he was very _very_ wrong about.

“Merlin… why don’t you want to drink the water?”

Gaius pulled the still trembling servant to his feet and began to lead him towards the door. “Sire, Merlin is clearly in need of rest. Perhaps it would be best if–”

“No. He’s going to answer me, and he’s going to do it now. Merlin, why?” No answer. “Gaius, leave us.”

“Sire–”

“ _Leave._ ”

Gaius guided his ward to a chair, leaning down and whispering in his ear a moment. Turning towards Arthur, he said softly, “Please, Arthur. Remember… he is your friend.” Then he walked out, shoulders slumped.

There was a chair next to Merlin, but Arthur didn’t take it, staying where he was by the bed. “Merlin… you know what happened to the water supply, don’t you.”

Eyes fixed on the floor, he nodded.

“And you’ve been avoiding drinking it.”

Another nod.

“Do you want to tell me why, or am I going to have to say it?”

“It doesn’t really matter anymore,” Merlin whispered.

“Oh, I’d say it matters a hell of a lot!”

“Arthur–”

But the time for listening was over. Mostly because the time for _talking_ should have passed a long time ago. “No, Merlin, I don’t want to hear it. You _lied_ to me. And to think… I can’t believe I actually thought it was _my_ fault you were acting so strange. But really, you were just worried your little secret was about to be ruined.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So, what was the plan?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He wasn’t sure he wanted one. “Obviously Gaius knows, but what about your mother? Does she know the depths her son has dropped to? I knew you were an idiot, but I never thought you could ever be _this_ stupid. Did you think of anyone but yourself? Tell me, how much gold does it take to buy the loyalties of a useless servant?”

The whipped accusations, while not making Arthur feel any better, were at least serving one purpose. With each question Merlin seemed to become more his old self. Or the self Arthur thought he knew. “No one _paid_ me,” he bit out, his glaring gaze finally coming up from the floor. “I was _born_ this way. I never had a choice. I only ever _chose_ how to use it.”

“There is only one way to use magic,” Arthur scoffed. “Even Gaius could tell you as much. Why do you think he agreed to stop?”

“Because he was afraid your father was going to execute him!”

“There is a _reason_ we execute sorcerers,” he sneered. “So that their _evil_ can’t spread to the rest of us! Yet you wanted to keep it! You went out of your way to avoid the possibility of losing your filthy power. That’s why you fainted; you found out about the cure in the water, and you didn’t want to risk that you could no longer use magic! And don’t try to tell me you’re like Gaius and haven’t been practicing. Why fight to keep it if you don’t mean to use it?”

Merlin leapt, rather unsteadily, to his feet. “I _use_ it to _protect you_ , you prat! Didn’t you ever wonder how all those sorcerers and magical creatures were defeated? Or how you were always completely fine when you _clearly_ had just been shot by an arrow, or how you survived when you were bitten by a beast that no one had ever survived being bitten by before? How do you think you managed to kill a dragon when it had been completely impossible to even put a scratch on him?”

Arthur couldn’t help but stand there, stunned by his recitation.

But it seemed Merlin wasn’t done yet. “You know what, I take it back. I didn’t have a choice about doing those things, either. If it hadn’t’ve been for my _destiny_ , I would have listened to myself when I wanted to leave that first week!”

Fuming, Arthur couldn’t stop the words from tumbling from his mouth, “And if it hadn’t’ve been for your _sorcery_ , I bet I would have taken your head off with that mace before you even had the chance. Don’t worry; I’m sure someone else will be more than willing to do the job.”

Now it was Merlin’s turn to freeze, his ire dropping like stone to be replaced with sorrow. “You don’t mean that.”

“Really? And why don’t I? You think because you did a good deed it excuses the evil you practice? Get out of my sight, Merlin.”

He didn’t budge. “I don’t regret what I’ve done, Arthur. Honestly. Not for a minute. I may have had doubts at the beginning, but know now I would protect you with my life, destiny or no destiny. I believe in the man you have become and the man you _will_ become. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well, it’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?” Arthur congratulated himself for keeping his voice steady. Certainly nothing else was. “I said, _get out_.”

Merlin still didn’t look like he was leaving, so Arthur began to storm towards the door himself. If he had to look at that _sorcerer_ for one more second, he was going to implode.

“Arthur…” the small voice stopped him on the threshold. “Are you going to turn me in?”

Arthur sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a moment in the hopes that maybe it would block out the world and everything that was happening, turning them into nothing more than a dream.

It didn’t work.

“I will not turn you in at the moment. I’m not doing it for _you_. Believe me when I say that if this was just about you, I would light the pyre myself for your betrayal. This is for Gaius. His heart would break if you were to be sold. No, your punishment will be to remain here, magicless and surrounded by constant reminders of all your treachery has wrought.”

And it would be a punishment for him too, a reminder that he could trust no one, and this was what happened when he did.

“I thought you were my friend, Merlin,” he said softly, barely audible after all the shouting. “I’m disappointed to find I wasn’t yours.”

* * *

Merlin sat in Arthur’s chambers for what seemed like hours after the prince stormed out.

It was over. Arthur knew about his magic. Arthur hated him for his magic. Merlin no longer possessed his magic.

The fact that he was likely going to die sometime very soon, either from a beheading or his lack of magic wasn’t even close to making the list of concerns. A list that was battling between magic and Arthur and finding they were one and the same.

Without magic, he couldn’t protect Arthur, so it didn’t matter that Arthur couldn’t bear to look at him, because Merlin had no reason to burden him with his presence anymore.

Except that Arthur was his friend. And so long as Merlin had breath in his body, he would do whatever he had to in order to ensure Arthur was safe.

That breath thing was getting rather difficult, however. Merlin could feel the lightheadedness that threatened to overwhelm him even from his seated position. His hands hadn’t stopped trembling, but he couldn’t tell if that was from nerves or his oncoming doom. Really, it was hard to tell if any of his symptoms were new or not. His former state of simple exhausted dehydration hadn’t exactly left him in the best shape.

Gaius found him still sitting there, gazing at the spot Arthur had walked away from. “Oh, my boy… I am so sorry.” He enveloped him in a hug. Merlin didn’t even feel it, he’d gone so numb.

“I’m being allowed to stay,” he croaked out. “Arthur’s not… he’s not going to turn me in to be killed or sold.”

“That’s good. You’re needed here in the castle. I need you. Arthur needs you.”

“But that doesn’t matter, does it? I don’t have my magic anymore, Gaius. What am I supposed to do? I can’t… And Arthur doesn’t even want me near him anyway.”

“You’re going to rest, that’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to come back and eat and have a good long drink and you’re going to go to bed. And then tomorrow… tomorrow will be what it is. We’ll figure this out, Merlin.”

Merlin knew better, but he let himself be guided back to his room, tucked into bed and force fed a meal that had he been in a better state of mind he might have been alarmed was cooked with a good bit of their precious remaining water.

Gaius needed that water. He had to protect Gaius, especially since he wouldn’t be able to much longer.

“Merlin? I know you probably don’t want to talk about it right now, my boy, but I think we need to. What did you mean back in Ar… back when you said you had seen that it wasn’t going to be fine?”

Gaius was right. He didn’t want to talk about it. Not ever.

“Please, Merlin.”

Merlin huffed, holding back the tears that threatened to come pouring out. He rolled over to face the wall. It would be easier if he couldn’t see the disappointment. “It was… I don’t know. A dream? A vision? When I was unconscious, I saw… my life without magic. Will was there, and you, and Elena, and… Arthur. He… he died, Gaius. Because I didn’t have magic to save him. And that’s what’s going to happen now. It was my destiny to use my magic to protect him, and now I can’t. I can’t protect him from Morgana or Mordred or Morgause or even a silly hedge witch. Arthur’s going to die, and magic will never return, and it’s all my fault.”

A hand curled comfortingly around his arm. “Merlin, it is _not_ your fault. And you cannot know for sure anything is going to happen. You are not a seer. It was a _dream_ , my boy, born only of your inner fears, no more. The simple presence of Will should tell you that. Things will be different, I grant you that. But you cannot hinge your faith of the future on naught but a dream.”

It was a nice thought, but Gaius hadn’t been there. Merlin knew better.

Somehow he fell into a fitful sleep, plagued by the same images that had haunted him when he passed out. Arthur unchanged. Arthur miserable. Arthur dying.

He couldn’t let Arthur die.

It didn’t matter that Arthur hated him. Because Merlin didn’t hate Arthur.

This whole thing had begun as Merlin had spat out, as simply his destiny, a forced life protecting some prat who clearly had fooled the cosmos into thinking he was worth even more than his swollen ego thought he was worth. But things were different now. Arthur was different now.

Now Merlin knew that it didn’t matter what Arthur was destined to do. He had to protect him because no matter what the prince thought, Arthur was his friend. Whether or not Arthur ever wished to speak to him again, Merlin could no more allow anything to happen to him than he could stop the sun from shining.

By morning he had spiked a fever, this one unconnected to his injured arm. Even if Gaius hadn’t insisted he stay in bed, he wouldn’t have been able to move anyway. The lead that had weighed him down before was gone, but now an airy numbness had set in, severing his connection between his mind and body. He was presented with several cups of water throughout the day, but he retained enough of a cognizance to at least try to turn them down, the thought “ _Must protect Gaius,_ ” one of the only ones that broke through his haze.

Arthur didn’t come for him. No one came. His only visitor was Gaius, who was quickly coming to the realization this was no ordinary illness. He kept up with his treatment, though, cooling Merlin’s forehead and spoon-feeding him broth, insisting that he continue to drink the safe water, just in case.

Merlin could have told him it was pointless. He’d tried to levitate his blankets off, but nothing had happened. He didn’t even feel a stirring.

He also didn’t tell his guardian what he knew was coming. It was best no one know. Let the old man hold onto hope a little while longer.

By nightfall, however, even Gaius could see what was to come. He moved Merlin out to his own cot in the main room so that he could watch him while he feverishly attempted to find a solution from the stolen poison, nearly shattering one of the bottles in his anguish.

Merlin didn’t want to be watched over so closely. He wished he had even a grain of his magic left so that he could make Gaius fall asleep. When the physician finally did unintentionally nod off, after brewing his seventh unsuccessful remedy, Merlin breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure that even with his best argument he could have convinced his guardian to allow him to do what he was about to do.

Sneaking out of the citadel when one was magicless and ill besides turned out to be much more difficult than he would have expected. It seemed he had more of an edge on Camelot’s guards with his magic than he had thought. Even taking one of his secret shortcuts, he had several close calls that only a miracle had gotten him out of.

The soft breeze in the woods felt like ice over his deadened nerves. Merlin stumbled along, not entirely sure where he was going. He meant to call the dragon. Could he still call the dragon? Would the dragon come if he tried? How did one call a dragon, anyway? He was sure he had once known, but the words kept slipping away. That tree looked comfortable, all covered in moss. Perhaps he would stop for a moment and take a nap. A nap would be nice. He could keep on his quest later. What exactly was that again…?

Someone was tapping his face. That wasn’t nice of them. Well, for their rudeness they were just going to have to wait until he woke up from his nap to speak to him. Served them right…


	13. Chapter 13

Lancelot’s eyes snapped open.

He immediately reached for the sword at his side. Something was out there. Sure, it could just be a harmless bunny, but what bunny was crashing through the brush in the dead of night?

He had received the letters mere days ago. _To Lancelot,_

_Thank you for taking Alice in for those few days and helping her establish herself in a new place. I was glad to hear she found you and everything has gone well. I know you had planned to move on since the last time I heard, so I am hoping the location you told Merlin in your last letter is the correct one to send this to._

_I’m afraid I must impose upon you again for yet another favour. Something has happened here in Camelot. I cannot go into the details, but know that it affects someone we both care about gravely. I fear it is no longer safe for them here. Of course, I will never be able to convince them to leave on my own. They are far too stubborn to do such a thing for their own good. And so I am asking if you would come to take them away from here, at least for the unseen future. Perhaps with your help we can save them from themselves._

Lancelot had no idea what Gaius was on about, but if Merlin was in danger, of course he would come. As he’d travelled through the kingdom back towards Camelot, he had kept his ears open for gossip. It wasn’t until he stopped in a small farming village that he heard the whispers. A magic cure. Prisoners being sold into slavery.

His fear for Merlin had increased tenfold.

He’d reached the edge of the city by nightfall, but Lancelot knew if he was going to have to drag Merlin out kicking and screaming, a night time rescue sneaking past guards and the king was not likely to be his best bet. No, in the morning he would find a way to alert Gaius that he was here, then perhaps the physician could send Merlin out to the woods alone to gather herbs. Merlin might be a sorcerer, but he was no match for Lancelot, especially when Lancelot knew Merlin would never use his power against his friend and the once-knight had a few tricks up his sleeve besides for handling wayward magicians.

Creeping forward towards the source of the noise, Lancelot hoped this wasn’t yet another creature that required the touch of said wayward sorcerer to defeat. Gryphons, wilderreon… it was enough to make a man doubt his skill with a sword. More crashing. Unfortunately it didn’t sound very bear-like. Why could it never just be a bear?

The crashing stopped; the silence broken by a scraping thud. Okay, that was… odd. He couldn’t think what kind of animal made that sound. Not an animal then. Bandits? But what were bandits doing wandering around at this time of night? Had they seen him perhaps? Yet Lancelot would expect bandits to be much stealthier than this. Oh, what was he doing complaining about the poor skills of bandits for? That just went to show how slow life had been since he stopped allowing himself to be hired entertainment for bloodthirsty nobles.

There, behind that tree. The shadow was a bit thicker in one spot. Rather low, though, not the height of an average person. Unless they were crouching, waiting to attack? But it didn’t look like a crouch… it looked more like… they were sleeping?

Lancelot lowered his sword slightly and listened closer. Yes, the breathing sounded sleep-like. It hitched slightly at random intervals, as if they were injured… Well he couldn’t allow someone injured to stay out here unattended to, no matter who they were. He walked more confidently around to the front of the tree.

“ _Merlin_?”

The young servant lay slumped against the tree, eyes closed. Lancelot dropped down beside him, tapping his cheek lightly. “Merlin? Merlin, wake up. Come on, now. Merlin?” The boy didn’t stir. Swiftly Lancelot checked him for injuries, but could find none except a healing scratch on his arm and a raging fever. “What on earth are you doing out here, Merlin?”

There was no way Merlin would have left Camelot on his own. That was the whole point of Lancelot being there. Something must have happened. The whispers of the “miracle cure” swept through his mind. No, that couldn’t be it. The tales said the victims were supposed to be fine, the only downside the slavery they were sold into afterwards. It had to be something else. An attack? Maybe some other sorcerer? So what about Arthur? Merlin wouldn’t have left Arthur’s side unless he had to.

Lancelot scrubbed his face with a hand. What did he do now? He couldn’t abandon Merlin here. But if there was an attack in the citadel, he couldn’t go in there loaded down with a body.

“We’ll watch him.”

Lancelot whirled on one knee, swinging his sword up as he turned and nearly taking off the head of the young girl who stood there.

“Wh-who are you?”

“A friend.” That was an older man, tall with dark-grey locks. Lancelot stood abruptly. The man looked unarmed, and there was a child with him, but he could take no chances, especially with the helpless condition Merlin was in.

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” _Did you do this to him?_ was what he really wanted to ask, but experience and common sense told him that even if they had, they would probably lie about it.

“I am Iseldir, of the druids. We have come to help. Emrys called for us, though I do not believe he knew what he was doing at the time. You must go and fetch the young Pendragon.”

“I can’t just leave him here.” _You might, I don’t know. Eat him or something._ The druids were supposed to be peaceful, but what proof did he have that this man – _Iseldir_ – wasn’t lying about who he was? And who was Emrys, anyway?

“You can, and you must. You must go and fetch Arthur Pendragon and bring him here. We will do what we can for Emrys.”

So Emrys was Merlin. That was… different. “What if he can’t come? Do you know what’s happened in Camelot? Do you know what’s wrong with Merlin?”

The man bowed his head, embarrassed. “The future is a nebulous thing, Sir Lancelot. It does not do to tamper too strongly with it. Legends and seers can only tell us so much about what _might_ happen. You can see how fragile the balance could be if those who play a part in it were told too much. But perhaps we did not prepare him as well as we ought.”

“So, what, you’re saying you saw this coming? You knew whatever’s wrong with Merlin was going to happen, and you didn’t do anything about it?”

“It was never meant to go this far. As uncertain as future is, what is certain is this was not how Emrys’ destiny was meant to unfold. But this is our new future. We must do what we can with it. That is all I can say.”

Lancelot rolled his eyes. “Right. That whole _meddling_ thing.” Were all sorcerers like this? Merlin certainly didn’t seem to be. Maybe it was because Iseldir was a druid. Perhaps they didn’t let you into the group unless you passed the “how to be annoyingly vague” test. “Can you help him?”

“I do not know. That is what we shall endeavour to do. But as for you, you must–”

“Go get Arthur. Yes, I heard you.”

He still didn’t want to leave Merlin here alone, but what choice did he have? Lancelot was beginning to believe that these two really were druids, which meant they were unlikely to hurt his friend, but Iseldir had just close to admitted he was partly to blame for Merlin’s current state.

“Emrys helped my brother and I,” the little girl spoke up again, startling Lancelot once more out of his thoughts. “If it were not for him we would have been killed or sold like my mother. There is no legend to say what will happen to her. For some of us, the legends only come after we die. But Emrys… his legend is not yet over. We won’t _let_ it to be over.”

Lancelot glanced at Merlin again. Still he hadn’t moved. He still had reservations, but their word was going to have to be good enough. But if he was going to have to sneak into Camelot in the dead of night, he was going to need some help.

“Merlin, you better wake up, because you have a lot of explaining to do.”

* * *

Arthur had spent the entire day sequestered in his room. His father had sent Leon to fetch him at some point, but the knight returned to Uther with a note saying Arthur had gone on a hunting trip and would be back tomorrow. Though he had no intention of leaving, Arthur hoped it would give him enough time to get his head into place again.

When Guinevere came in with his meals, she at least seemed to sense his un-talkative mood and didn’t try to cajole him out of it for once. She did thank him, however, for what she assumed was his gesture of giving Merlin time off to recover. “I just hope he takes it. That boy simply doesn’t know how to _rest_.” Then she smiled fondly. “Well, at least you’re well-matched. No wonder you two are so close.”

“We’re nothing alike,” Arthur muttered.

Guinevere waved a hand in dismissal. “Oh, of course you are. You both are stubborn, loyal, have no sense of self-preservation when it comes to those you love… Yes, you may go about things in different ways, but that’s what makes you work so well together. Like two sides of the same coin.”

He spent the rest of the day viciously sharpening his own sword and doing his best not to think about what she meant.

Arthur awoke that night to a soft knock on his door before he heard it creak slowly open. Silently, he reached one arm under his pillow for the dagger he kept there. There were supposed to be guards who prevented anyone untoward from getting this far, but he’d seen how well such precautions worked in the past. A quick peek told him there were two shadows slipping through into his chamber. He gripped the dagger tighter, ready to spring the moment they were close enough.

“Arthur? Arthur, it’s me: Gwen.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. There was no quaver to her whisper indicting she was there against her will. Which meant her companion was probably Merlin, dragged here to make up with him. The boy had probably slagged off on him, playing the wronged party with his pitiful puppy face. But what could he possibly have to complain about? That Arthur had sacked him because he tried to keep possession of his illegal sorcerous evil? That Arthur had saved him from rightful punishment by agreeing to keep his secret?

“What is it, Guinevere?” he groaned, rolling upright. He’d wait until she was gone to yell at Merlin how inappropriate this was. At least he hadn’t changed out of his day clothes since, well, since he last sent the servant – _ex_ -servant– away.

“Promise not to get angry?”

_Absolutely not. I’m already angry._ “I promise not to be angry with you.” _But only you._

“I’ve got Lancelot with me. He says he needs your help.”

Now Arthur bolted to his feet as Guinevere went around lighting candles. “Lancelot? You can’t be here! You may not be officially banished, but this? If the king catches you here breaking into the castle in the dead night, he’ll have you executed, and I can’t help you this time.”

“I know. And I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t dire. There’s something wrong with Merlin.”

_There’s a lot wrong with Merlin_. He should have known. Of course Lancelot would come back here for Merlin. The two had been thick as thieves from the moment the man came to Camelot. Merlin had claimed Lancelot had saved him, had vouched for him as a noble. He was the one who had pushed so hard for Arthur to accept him as a knight. So either Lancelot had lied to Merlin about who he was, or Merlin had lied to Arthur.

Arthur was more than willing to bet now that it was the latter.

“I’m sure whatever it is it can wait until morning,” he ground out. “You’re welcome to stay in the antechamber for the night, and we’ll sneak you out in the mor–”

“No, I’m sorry, sire, but it really _cannot_ wait,” Lancelot interrupted earnestly. “I found Merlin out in the woods naught but an hour ago. He was unconscious and terribly feverish, but for no reason I could find.”

Arthur ignored the flutter of worry that threatened to bloom in his chest, batting it away fiercely. “Then fetch Gaius if you must. There’s no need to come to me.”

“Arthur,” Lancelot gaped, decorum forgotten in his shock. “What are you talking about? It’s _Merlin_.”

“I’m his prince, not his nursemaid. Believe me, Merlin’s not as helpless he as seems.” Or perhaps he was. He didn’t have magic anymore thanks to Arthur. No, anyone crafty enough to keep such a vile thing secret for so long was crafty enough to find another way to take care of themselves. Like animal sacrifices or something.

Guinevere just scoffed and rolled her eyes, her expression clearly saying, _Well of course he’s not; the only one who ever thought Merlin was helpless was you._ Lancelot however, took a step back, his worry becoming even more pronounced as he took in Arthur’s hard expression. “Did he te–… You _know_?”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “You _knew_.”

“I saw him,” Lancelot blushed slightly, but he bore no other hint of shame. “He was the one who defeated the gryphon, not me. And he trapped the wilderreon so we could escape from Hengist’s.”

“You knew, and you told no one.”

“It was not mine to tell. He has not hurt anyone, at least no one that didn’t deserve it.”

“And who gets to decide that, hmm?” Arthur shot back. “Who decides who is _worthy_ of dying?”

“I don’t know,” Lancelot’s voice rose angrily to match his. “Why don’t you ask the man who condemned him to death for something he had no choice over?”

Guinevere seemed to decide this was the best time to step between them. “What on earth are you two talking about? Arthur, not one day ago you were telling me how worried you were about Merlin. Why are we now talking about killing him? And why are we not charging out there immediately to go get him? And _why is he out there in the first place?_ ”

“Ask _him._ ”

Guinevere crossed her arms and didn’t budge. “I’m asking you, Arthur Pendragon. Because I know Lancelot would tell me,” she glanced at him briefly as if to confirm that, “but I want to know what’s going on here from _you_. Whatever has happened between you and Merlin, I can’t see how it could ever warrant this childish behaviour.”

“That’s because you don’t know that precious little _Mer_ lin is a filthy–”

“Sire?” Gaius poked his head in, face anxious. “I apologize to disturb you, but I heard voices so I knew you were awake. Is Merlin here?”

“Gaius!” Lancelot breathed what sounded like a sigh of relief. “Merlin’s–”

“Not here,” Arthur snapped. “Why would he be? I’m not sure why _any_ of you are here, frankly. Especially you, Lancelot. What are you even doing _near_ Camelot?”

“Because I called for him.” Gaius eyed Arthur sternly. “For Merlin. I was going to send him away to keep him safe. It may be too late for that now, but if you’ll have him, Lancelot, I think it might be best if he goes still.”

Arthur refused to feel shame over the hinted accusation.

“Too late? How…?” Lancelot breathed in horror.

“Yes,” the physician replied shortly, sparing a glance that was more like a glare at Arthur. “How doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that we find him, before it’s too late for him to do anything at all.”

“I found him already. He’s in the woods. What’s wrong with him, Gaius?”

“It’s this anti-sorcery potion. It’s done something to him, something beyond take away his magic. He was right when he referred to it as a poison. I’m surprised Merlin even was able to make it out of the castle.”

“He was fine when he left here yesterday,” Arthur scoffed. “Beyond the damage he did to himself, anyways. You’re trying to tell me he’s dying now?”

“I fear so, yes.”

Arthur froze. That wasn’t possible. There was no reason for Merlin to be any more ill than he was the last time he saw him. And why should Arthur care if he was? He didn’t. Merlin was a rotten sorcerer, a liar who would rather make himself sick avoiding a cure than risk losing the source of his power. No, Arthur didn’t care if he _was_ dying. Why, if Arthur hadn’t granted mercy to him, Merlin would be dead by now anyway. Uther would be furious a sorcerer had managed to slip so far past his security. Merlin wouldn’t have even had the option of being sold instead. Access to magic or no, he would have been burned at the stake by morning.

_There was a reason you kept him from that fate._

“Then go with Lancelot and bring him back so you can fix him up. You don’t need me.”

“I’m afraid, sire,” Gaius said softly, “that I don’t know _how_. I’ve been trying to find an antidote, and I may have one, but this isn’t what was supposed to happen. This is something more, a side-effect of someone of Merlin’s capabilities losing their power. Even if I was able to reverse the effects of the potion so that Merlin had his magic back, I cannot be sure that would fully cure him at this point.”

Arthur had always known there was something different about Merlin. Why did it have to be this? Why couldn’t Merlin just be a garden-variety sorcerer? That would make this so much simpler!

“The druids. They said they might be able to help,” Lancelot put in. “They were there when I found him. They told me they would do what they could for him, but I had to come get _you_ , sire.” He turned back to Arthur as he said it.

“Me? What do they need with me?”

“I don’t know. But they seemed quite adamant you had to be there.”

“Well they can be as adamant as they wish, I’m not going.”

“Why? Because if he dies without you having to watch, you can pretend you weren’t the one who killed him?”

Arthur opened his mouth to yell something back, but nothing came out. Instead his jaw simply hung there, opening and closing without any actual words involved.

“Gentlemen, I hate to interrupt, but… did anyone see where Gwen went?”

Both men spun to Gaius. He was right. Sometime since she had demanded to know what was happening, she had slipped out of the room. Arthur had no doubt where she had gone, and it seemed neither did Lancelot.

“I’ll have to go bring her back,” Arthur grumbled, going to his wardrobe and drawing out a cloak. “She can’t be out there alone in the middle of the night; it’s not safe.”

“So you’ll go for Gwen?”

“ _Guinevere_ hasn’t decided to betray me by turning to _magic_ ,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“And if she did? What would you do then?”

“Then I– Well of course I– That’s not even a question I have to consider. Guinevere doesn’t have an evil bone in her body.”

“And Merlin does?”

Lancelot stalked from the room. Arthur was really starting to hate being left speechless. Why couldn’t Lancelot just let the simple things stay simple? Why did he have to muck them up by making Arthur think? Sorcery was evil. Merlin was a sorcerer. Therefore Merlin was…

Wasn’t he?

* * *

Morgause sneered at the guards as she slipped easily past them. When Morgana was on the throne, they would be the first ones to go. Security was key. They would have the allegiance of Cenred perhaps, useless as the man was, but that wouldn’t stop Camelot’s allies from attempting to come to the rescue.

That was why, much as it had pained her, Morgause had had to turn Morgana against Arthur. Morgause had _liked_ Arthur when she first met him. The prince seemed honourable, taking his loss to a “mere woman” with grace, keeping his word to come and obey her request, to the point of nearly allowing her to take his head off with an axe. Even though she had been furious when he had in the end doubted her and not killed Uther as she’d planned, even that display of loyalty had raised him in her regard.

But while it was a toss-up whether that loyalty would extend to Morgana when she made her claim to the throne, the chance that Arthur could be used as a sympathy figure for disgruntled nobles to rally behind was one Morgause was unwilling to take. Therefore, both he and Uther had to go, and death was the only suitable option to be rid of them for good.

Unfortunately, Morgana herself was proving to be a problem as well. The sample she had provided was next to useless. Morgause could tell the water wasn’t pure, but it was obvious that it was _water_ , not the potion Morgana had claimed it to be. It was possible Morgana had been lied to about what the potion looked like, but somehow she doubted it. More likely her sister had lied to _her_ , but for the life of her, she couldn’t think _why_.

She was at Morgana’s door now. Quietly she opened the door and eased her way inside. Her sister should be up waiting, but there was no need to startle her.

“Sister!” Morgana cried happily the moment the door was closed. “Did you encounter any trouble?”

As if she had just been merrily traveling along, coming to visit like any normal person. “None. Your guards are rather lax, my dear. Improvements will have to be made.”

“And we will make them. Together. Tell me, what is your plan?”

“I have tried the grand takeovers in the past, dear sister. I was thinking of trying a different tack this time. It’s a method you may be familiar with: a simple poison. By now any sorcerer who would help the Pendragons has been neutralized. And if they aren’t and decide to pay us a visit, well,” she pulled the bottle of likely fake potion from her belt, “we can rectify Uther’s mistake.”

Morgause watched Morgana’s face for any hint of worry over the false potion and was rewarded with a small flutter of her eyelashes and a glance down at the floor. “I will rely on your help to administer the poison. While it can be activated from a reasonable distance, it must be administered from close range. If you are discovered before it takes effect, you will be able to give an excuse for your presence. But the enchantment is a powerful one. It will take both of us to enact it fully.”

“And once it’s enacted?”

She smiled. “Then Uther and Arthur will be dead by morning with no one the wiser. Even the most capable of rescuers will still be fast asleep in their beds by the time the point of no return arrives.” _So even if your little potion doesn’t work as I suspect, we stand less risk of anyone having a chance to come interrupt. “_ Quick and subtle. Not all monarchs must take their places with a bang. And when both obvious claims to the throne are found dead, the only possible choice left will be you. We simply choose someone in the castle to take the blame for the assassinations, and not even the staunchest of Camelot’s allies will be able to contest you.”

Morgana grinned back, the fire of anticipation in her eyes. “And you will take your place at my side as I welcome magic back to the land.”

Morgause reached back into her belt and pulled out a new bottle, holding it out to her sister. “Shall we begin?”


	14. Chapter 14

Arthur had no idea what he was doing out here. Okay, he had some idea. He was looking for Guinevere. And since the forest was a rather large place and while he knew exactly where Guinevere was he didn’t know exactly _where_ Guinevere was, he was forced to follow Lancelot to get to her.

It had nothing to do with Merlin. Nothing at all.

“He’s over there.”

Arthur had figured that out when started hearing horribly familiar sniffles. He cringed. The thought that Guinevere might be alone and forced to watch as Merlin– no. That wasn’t going to happen. Because it _wasn’t_ _happening_.

“Arthur Pendragon. I am pleased to see you have come. Your warlock needs you.”

The speaker was a strangely familiar man, probably a druid from the dress. Lancelot had said they were there. He stood next to a huddled form, mostly hidden from view by a kneeling Guinevere and some other small person in druid clothes. “He’s not my warlock. And I don’t care if he does.”

“Then you condemn yourself and your people,” the druid declared. “For without him you have no hope of facing the challenges of the future. Just as without you Emrys has no future which to face. Even less if he does not get the help he needs, and soon.”

“I thought you said you could help him!” Lancelot cried, alarmed.

The druid hung his head. “We have done all we can. Our magic is not strong enough to heal him entirely. But we have given you time to take him to where there is magic that can.”

“Where?”

“There is a lake, not far from here. You must go and petition the guardian of those waters to save him. Be warned, there will surely be a price.”

“Then we will pay it. How do we get–”

“Hold on a second, no one ever said we were doing this!” Arthur interrupted. “Merlin is a sorcerer. This is the punishment he deserves.”

“And was it the punishment young Mordred deserved?”

Arthur blinked. _That_ was how he knew this stranger. He was one of the men he’d delivered the druid boy to years ago. “That was different. He was…”

“He was innocent,” the druid finished softly. “You saw that in him and chose to let him live. You knew of his potential for darkness due to his possession of magic, and you still chose to let him go, giving him the benefit of doubt he would use it for good. What about your servant have you seen that you are not willing to grant him that same pardon?”

“He… he… he _lied to me_. For _ages_. If he’d’ve told me, I would’ve– I could’ve–”

“Of course he lied to you, Arthur!” Guinevere sniffed from her position on the ground, glaring at him accusingly. “The consequences if anyone found out was his death! Just look what happened the moment you did. You tossed him aside and look at him now! Merlin doesn’t deserve this, and you know it. If you won’t take him to the lake, I’ll do it myself.”

She leaned forward a bit, then started to struggle to her feet, dead weight of Merlin too much for her to handle on her own. Lancelot hurried forward to help her, swinging the boy up over his shoulder. Arthur tried to avert his eyes, but they were drawn to his servant nonetheless. He’d thought Merlin was pale before, but now he looked like a ghost, an ill, malnourished ghost. His face shone with perspiration in the moonlight, and his entire body hung limply in the air.

“F-fine,” he stammered out, despite his attempt to keep his voice steady. He swallowed hard and tried to find his solid driving anger again, but it was mysteriously slippery in his grasp. “We’ll take him. But whatever price this guardian asks, _he’ll_ be the one to pay it.”

* * *

Lancelot went first, carrying Merlin’s body silently through the forest. Arthur took up the rear, Guinevere stubbornly staying in between as if she were forming a barrier between Arthur and Merlin. Every few minutes she would close the distance between herself and Lancelot to check that Merlin was still breathing. Each time Arthur’s heart did a painful flip-flop that try as he might to call it jealousy, obstinately remained labelled worry.

But Merlin wasn’t going to die. He wasn’t dy _ing_. And even if he was, they were taking him to get healed, so he could be better and continue on making Arthur feel guilty about himself.

Not that he had anything to feel guilty about.

The lake that came into view was a familiar one. Arthur had seen it many times before on patrol. He’d never seen anything to indicate some kind of mystical guardian, though.

_Yes, because you would have been so welcoming had they shown themselves_.

Lancelot lay Merlin gently on the ground by the edge of the water. “What do we do now? Is there some kind of message system?”

“How would I know?” Arthur snapped back. “It’s not like I frequent around talking to magical water-people.”

“Maybe we just shout?” Guinevere suggested, frowning and gnawing her lip anxiously. “Do you think they can hear us from here? Or perhaps we need to get in the water…”

“There’s no need. I can hear you just fine.”

They all jumped as the voice came from the water. Then a figure began to emerge, rising up until Arthur could identify a young woman. Though water dripped off her body and clothing, she didn’t actually seem to be wet. Her forehead was creased unhappily, but nothing about her body language indicated she was about to attack.

Arthur was glad. He had no idea how to fight mermaids.

Her gaze was not on him anyway. It was focused entirely on Merlin. “What happened to him? Why are you here?”

She sounded oddly concerned. But then, those druids had seemed to know who Merlin was. Perhaps all those with magic held some in-born inner connection to each other that made them automatically know each other. He didn’t like to think about that. Not only were there some unsavoury characters he didn’t want to associate with Merlin –no matter what he thought of him– but that was getting into the part of Merlin’s argument that he tried to pretend hadn’t happened, the part where Merlin said he was _born_ with magic.

He was so busy shooing thoughts from his mind he missed Lancelot explaining Merlin’s condition. “Can you help him?” the former knight begged.

“Perhaps. Bring him here. You may not need to be in the lake to speak to me, but I need to touch him to heal him, and I cannot leave these waters.”

“Why not?” Arthur found himself asking even as Lancelot and Guinevere were complying with her wishes, dragging Merlin’s body across the water’s edge. “Will it kill you or something?”

She just smiled sadly. “That would be very difficult, sire, as I am already dead.”

Arthur winced. All right, _that_ he wasn’t expecting. “So what can you do for him then? Pardon the bluntness, but if you’re _dead_ , then how can a ghost do anything?”

“I was not always bound to this lake, sire. Once I was as alive and free as you are. Though perhaps not quite as free. When I was dying, I was brought here. The residents of the lake used their power to preserve me to watch over these waters evermore.” Her smile grew more genuine. “The position comes with several… perks.”

She knelt down, knees brushing the surface of the lake as if it were merely grass, and brought Merlin’s floating body close. Like her, he remained dry despite his position. She laid a hand on him that glowed brightly, her lips knit in a frown as she worked. “Oh, Merlin,” she murmured quietly. “What time has done to you…”

“You know him? Were you from Ealdor as well?” Arthur felt better that Lancelot noticed the familiarity as well. He felt even better about the idea that perhaps they really had simply known each other, not the whole in-born magic detector idea.

“Yes… we knew each other once.” she fiddled with the ends of the purple scarf tied around his arm. “But no, I’ve never been to Ealdor. Though I would have loved to. It sounded lovely.”

“You’re the girl!” Guinevere cried out suddenly, pointing with an excitement that seemed almost inappropriate given her friend was dying before her. “You’re the girl he won’t talk about. Oh… oh, now I really am sorry. I kept pushing, and –oh, he probably hates me.”

“I don’t think Merlin’s capable of hate,” she stroked his sweat damp hair fondly. “Believe me, if he was going to turn to such a thing, he’s had much greater motivators for doing so than a bit of teasing.”

She grew more serious and turned her attention back to Arthur. “I can heal him. I can restore him to full health, in less time than it takes you to take a few breaths. But there is a price, sire. Only if you are willing to pay it can we go forth.”

That was another thing he had been trying very very hard not to dwell on as they made their way here. He had no idea what kind of price magical dead women asked, but from the way she was looking at him, Arthur knew it couldn’t be a small one.

“If I am to heal him, I will have to heal all of him. That _includes_ his magic. It is an integral part of who Merlin is. Without it he is lost. I will not save him only to let him burn. I cannot ask that of him any more than I wish to see it happen.

“That is my price, my lord. Merlin will live, but only if you give me your word that you will let him _live_.”

And there it was. Of course. Nothing else thus far had been easy, why should this? Arthur resisted the urge to run his fingers roughly through his hair. It wasn’t like the nervous tick actually helped him think better.

She had to hit right to the heart of it, didn’t she. He could either have Merlin with magic, or he couldn’t have Merlin at all.

And he _wanted_ Merlin.

Curse it all… fine. He admitted it. He wanted Merlin back. He didn’t care that Merlin had lied, he didn’t care that Merlin had used magic, he _cared_ that… he cared that Merlin wanted to keep it. That he had worked so hard to keep something Arthur had learned from the cradle was evil.

He couldn’t comprehend that. Why would someone want to cling to something they knew was wrong? That could hurt others? Merlin wasn’t like that. Arthur _knew_ Merlin wasn’t like that. Merlin cried over unicorns and strangers. Merlin stayed by Arthur’s side against dragons and armies and curses. Merlin would never do anything that could possibly be considered _evil_.

But if Merlin had magic and wasn’t evil than that meant magic wasn’t evil and in Arthur’s mind magic and not evil simply _did not compute_.

It used to be a peasant as a knight didn’t compute. Feeling love for a servant did not compute. A dead woman living in a lake _simply did not compute_.

Yet all were true. The proof was in front of him.

Arthur thought of himself as many things. He was a warrior. He was a leader. He was stubborn and proud and fine, a bit of a prat.

But the one thing he’d never thought of himself as before was a denialist.

If magic _could_ be used for good, Merlin was the one person Arthur knew would never waver from that use. And maybe… maybe it was time Arthur stopped denying the proof that was in front of his face and accepted that that was what Merlin had been doing all along. Just as he’d tried to tell him before.

“I give you my word… I will protect him with my life. Just as he has protected mine.”

The woman beamed. “Merlin was right about you, sire. I’m glad. Make no mistake, I would have happily kept him with me for all eternity, but his is another path. Hold tight to him, Prince Arthur. Together you will do great things.”

With that she set her hand on Merlin’s head again, this time her entire body glowed with that dim light, for one breath, two, three… and then Merlin was coughing, just as he had when first fainted in Arthur’s chambers.

She gave him a soft kiss on the forehead, then pushed him away back to Lancelot and Guinevere, who gathered him out of the lake and laid him out on land, Guinevere scooping up handfuls of lake water to ease his throat.

“Don’t worry. He will awaken by the time you return to Camelot.”

Lancelot heaved the servant up again, though this time at least his body was less limp and more lax. “You couldn’t possibly make him a bit lighter for that journey could you?” he quipped. His begrudging words were negated by the protective way he clutched his friend.

“I’m afraid not,” she laughed. “But it will be good for you, to feel some of the weight he has been burdened with over the years.”

“Thank you,” Arthur said, surprising himself with how genuine the expression of gratitude really was. “For everything.”

“I would gladly do this and more. This is not the last you will see of me, sire. I have a feeling we will meet again. Keep him safe for me.”

“I promise.” They turned to go, but Arthur felt himself drawn to ask one more question as the others made their way back into the trees. “If you don’t mind me prying… how did you die?”

The sad smile was back. “I was killed. By a very remorseful prince.”


	15. Chapter 15

Morgana slipped silently into Uther’s room. Her sister remained tucked in the shadows out in the corridor. Morgana had no intention of doing anything to raise the alarm, but Morgause was right. It was better not to take chances.

It was laughably effortless to reach the side of the bed without gaining even a twitch. Really, for a king who had as many attempts on his life as Uther had, one would think he wouldn’t rest as easy. But no, his breathing was deep and untroubled. That would soon change. Soon all his wicked deeds would come back to haunt him. And she would be the one to bring them.

Carefully Morgana pulled out the stopper from the phial of poison. A mere drop on the skin, that was all it would take. Gently, barely breathing herself, she touched one drop to Uther’s forehead. She flinched as the king snuffled slightly when the drop rolled across his forehead and down into his thinning hair. Morgana’s heart pounded as she retreated gleefully from the room. It was done.

Well, half done. A quarter if she counted repeating the process with Arthur. But a quarter was still further than she had been before.

Morgana joined her sister in the shadows by the doorway. In hushed voices they recited the spell Morgause had taught to her earlier. She could feel the build-up of power at it rushed addictively through her veins. How could she ever even think to give this up? How could anyone ever ask her to?

“Quickly, sister.” Even Morgause sounded a bit breathless as the gold faded from her eyes. “We must move to the prince now.”

Giddily Morgana followed Morgause through the castle to Arthur’s chambers. This would be slightly more difficult. Arthur had never slept as soundly as his father. Perhaps it was her fault, all those times she had snuck into his room as a child. But then, Arthur had been the only one who could comfort her after her nightmares… He never seemed to mind when she crawled up into his bed in the middle of the night. She would tell him about her dreams, and he would come up with a happier version, talking softly until she fell back to sleep.

Uther put an end to the sleepovers when she was old enough to be presented to court. Ladies did not need a security blanket to make it through the night. Ladies kept their problems to themselves and presented strong faces, come hell or high water.

Gwen was nice, but she pitied Morgana far more than Arthur ever had.

Morgana shook her head to clear the traitorous thoughts. Neither Arthur nor Gwen would have comforted her at all had they known her nightmares were the result of magic. She would have been dead long before she reached the stage of Lady.

Gently Morgana opened the door to Arthur’s chambers. If he caught her here, she would simply pretend that this was just another of those old nights, that she was only here because she was scared. It would only be half a lie. She _was_ scared. But since it was Arthur she was terrified of, she couldn’t see how running to his arms was going to help.

She was halfway across the room when she realized something was off. Freezing, she squinted her eyes to see Arthur’s bed more clearly, looking for signs he was awake and had noticed her approach. Eyes widening, she turned on her heel and swept out of the room.

No, Arthur hadn’t noticed her. Because Arthur wasn’t there.

“He’s gone!” she hissed as she emerged into the corridor.

“What? Where could he possibly have run off to?”

“I don’t know,” Morgana wrung her hands. The plan didn’t work if both Uther and Arthur didn’t die at the same time. Arthur would be under rigorous guard for ages after this. And if they blamed someone for Uther’s death now, it would look highly suspicious if someone different killed Arthur not long after.

And frankly, Morgana didn’t want to wait any longer.

“Uther gave me some tale earlier about him going off on a hunting trip, but I know for a _fact_ Gwen was bringing him his meals right up until evening. And he wouldn’t have gone without Merlin, anyways. He never goes anywhere without the little servant if he doesn’t have to.”

“We must find him. Is it possible he spent the night at the maid’s house?”

Morgana snorted gracelessly. “No. He may be a fool, but he’s not that big of one.” She racked her mind for any other possibilities. “The only place I can think of is the physician’s quarters. He may have been hiding from Uther because of an injury. The prat wouldn’t want his father to think of him as _weak_.”

Gwen hadn’t mentioned an injury, but that could be for the same reason. The Pendragon pride ran deep.

“If he is, that will make things even easier,” Morgause grinned. “With such easy access, it is the perfect opportunity for a disgruntled servant to poison his master.”

_Merlin_. That would be the icing on the cake, wouldn’t it? The moment the king and prince were found dead he would know it was her anyway, and with no one left for her to turn him in to, he would cry to anyone who would listen everything he knew about her.

He would be so disappointed the uses he had saved her magic for. “ _You **can** use your gifts for good, Morgana, because you **are** a good person. And so long as that’s possible, I’m going to keep giving you a chance to prove it.”_

If only he wasn’t a lying no-good poisoner, Merlin would have been a nice ally to keep around. He had always believed in her. But he would certainly stop believing in her after this. Even if she gave him the chance to be lying no-good poisoners together.

Morgana and Morgause slowed as they approached the physician’s chambers. There were definitely sounds of movement within. Carefully Morgana eased the door open to peek inside. It was Gaius, moving around feverishly, brewing something or other. Morgana couldn’t see everything, but she could spot the patient’s cot. Arthur wasn’t on it. It was possible he had been put in Merlin’s room for more privacy, but then where was Merlin? Morgana had seen the room before. It was hardly the size of a cupboard. Not even loyal Merlin would agree to sleep cramped up on the floor.

She backed away from the door. Silently she shook her head, seeing her sister’s eyes narrow in disappointment. A sudden cry from within the room whipped her attention back to the narrow gap. Gaius held a bottle of light green liquid up to the candlelight, a beaming smile on his face. In his other hand he held something Morgana recognized immediately: the magic-suppressing potion. He poured a small bit of the green liquid into the potion, and Morgana had to stifle a gasp as the combination turned the potion clear as water.

Morgana quickly backed away from the space again, taking her sister by the arm and dragging her a safe distance away. “The magic cure. He’s found a way to stop it.”

“What? How? For what reason?”

“I don’t know. He’s a physician; his knowledge in the art of antidotes is much greater than ours. But he was also once a sorcerer as well. Perhaps his practice is not quite as former as he would like the king to believe.”

“This is good. If we force him to make more, we can use it to win allies of those whom Uther persecuted. Perhaps we may even gain the allegiance of the mysterious pesky guardian who keeps seeming to get in the way.”

Since the only pesky guardian Morgana could think of was Merlin, she doubted it, but perhaps Morgause knew something she didn’t.

“I thought he was supposed to be awake by now. Do you think something went wrong?”

“I don’t know! She was an immortal dead woman in a lake! Maybe her sense of time and distance has gotten messed up.”

The approaching voices sent the sisters skittering into the shadows. Morgana felt her heartbeat quicken. She couldn’t identify the first speaker, but the second one was definitely Arthur. She was right, he was coming here. Where he’d been in the meantime she had no clue, but that didn’t matter now. They just needed him to fall asleep.

Arthur walked past with another man Morgana now vaguely recognized as Lancelot. They both were looking at the bundle of servant in Arthur’s arms. Morgana’s eyebrows raised. What had happened to Merlin? She’d seen him up close only a few days ago when he brought her a fresh bucket of water, and he’d been fine then.

She couldn’t even fathom what this talk about people in lakes was about.

They disappeared into Gaius’s quarters. The women followed, pressing close to the door to listen in.

“What happened? Were the druids able to help him?”

“Not the druids.” That was Lancelot. “An old friend of Merlin’s. A girl he used to know who now guards a lake?”

“Freya,” Gaius replied. “Must have been. And she said he would live?”

“Only if I agreed not to kill him for having magic,” Arthur answered softly. “She said it was a package deal. No magic, no Merlin.”

Morgana nearly choked herself holding back her gasp this time. _Merlin had magic?_ Why had he never told her? She could feel her anger building up inside her, held back only by Morgause’s hand on her arm.

“And…” Morgana found herself waiting with bated breath for the answer.

“And I said okay. I’m not saying I don’t believe magic is evil, but just… It’s Merlin,” he finished lamely. “I couldn’t just let him… If anyone can use it for good, it’s him. I’m willing to give him a chance.”

Arthur knew about Merlin having magic. Arthur was _okay_ with Merlin having magic.

Because Arthur believed Merlin was good.

_You **can** use your gifts for good… you **are** a good person. I’m giving you a chance to prove it._

“The girl –Freya– she said he’d be awake by the time we got here, but he’s still out.”

“It may take some time for the trauma of having his magic ripped away and thrust back upon him to subside. Even Merlin can’t bounce back from such a thing in a mere hour.”

As if to prove him wrong, there was a loud groan. A garble mush of words streamed out. Shushed reassurances were muttered back.

Then there was a tickle of air in her ear. “We don’t have time for this, sister. If Arthur is not exposed to the poison soon, there is still a chance he can be saved by morning. We must do this now.”

Morgana had a sinking she knew what Morgause was getting at. Morgana would have to walk into the room and somehow get the poison in contact with Arthur’s skin without anyone in the room noticing, including the already suspicious and now apparently _sorcerous_ , Merlin.

But Merlin was also just barely conscious. Perhaps if she was careful…

Steeling herself, Morgana nodded to her sister and squared her shoulders. Then she let them droop and squeezed her eyes shut tight for a moment to start the production of tears. Then she burst through the door.

Three sets of eyes turned to face her. “Morgana! Are you alright?”

“I– I had a nightmare. It was… Merlin. He was dead. Burning!” She threw herself at Arthur, letting him wrap her in a hug.

Gaius’s eyebrows shot up in alarm. Of course, he knew the truth about her dreams. But if he also knew about his own ward’s magic, he might know the truth about her feelings towards Merlin.

“Relax, Morgana, Merlin’s not dead,” Arthur’s voice shook even as he reassured her, glancing nervously at the servant, who lay prone on the cot, his head turned to see what all the commotion was but clearly not yet to the point he could understand what was going on. “See? He’s fine. Just a bit under the weather.”

“No, but… In my dream you _had_ to do it. He killed Uther!” What was she doing? Morgause was going to kill _her_. If Gaius believed this was a real dream, he would go check on Uther. But Morgause had promised none but the strongest of sorcerers could break the path of the poison.

Just how strong was Merlin?

“It was just a dream, Morgana. My father is fine, Merlin is fine.” He was looking even more anxious now, though. “Why don’t you go back to bed?”

Now. She should do it now. Arthur would never suspect a bit of dampness as anything other than her tears. Morgana took another look at Merlin. He had managed to wake up a bit more now, and he locked eyes with her. He shook his head the tiniest bit. She froze. There was no way he knew exactly what she was doing, but he did know one thing. She was lying through her teeth.

_You **are** a good person. I’m giving you a chance to prove it._

“Yo-you’re right… I know you’re right.” The quaver in her tone didn’t have to be faked. She took a few deep breaths as if to compose herself. “I just needed to see for myself.” Morgana broke away from Arthur and knelt down by Merlin.

“Whatever you’re up to, stop it, Morgana,” he whispered, his words barely reaching her ears. “Please.”

“I’m sorry, Merlin,” she breathed back. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, and took his hand under pretence of taking comfort he was alright. Subtly she pressed the bottle into his palm. “I’m not the person you think I am.”

She stood shakily, smilingly tightly at the gathered men. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I… I didn’t take my sleeping draught. I’ll drink that, maybe it will help me go back to sleep.”

Morgana fled the room, reaching out and snagging her sister by the arm as she passed. “We need to leave. Now.”

“What’s wrong, Morgana? Did someone see you?”

“Please, just… we have to get away from here. Both of us.”


	16. Chapter 16

The instant the door closed, Merlin rolled off the cot. Unfortunately his abused body forgot to enact the second step in that plan and make his legs stand him up, and he ended up flopping to the ground with a yelp. Hands immediately grabbed him, trying to dump him back on the bed again, but he was having none of it. He didn’t have time to rest.

“Merlin, my boy, what are you doing?”

Tugging himself away from the pesky grips, Merlin managed to get his feet mostly steadily underneath him. “Need to… Gotta go do something,” he mumbled, shoving back against the most persistent of the grabby hands.

“You _need_ to rest!”

“Lie back down, Merlin,” Lancelot –Lancelot? When had he arrived? What was he doing here? –begged. “Lady Morgana’s dream was just a coincidence. You’re going to be fine.”

“Not… have to go.” For some reason his brain to mouth mechanism wasn’t working as well as he wanted it to. Maybe it had something to do with passing out for the third time in two days, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that Arthur was right there. Standing next to him. Looking _concerned_.

Merlin could feel the familiar pulse of his magic in his bones. It was back. He had no idea how it was back, but it was. Honestly, he had no idea what was happening at all. The last time his eyes were open, he’d been alone in the woods meaning to get Kilgharrah to do whatever he could to save him, and now he was back in the castle surrounded by people –and seriously, _why_ was Lancelot there?

But it didn’t matter. He may not have had a clue what it meant or why she’d done it, but Morgana had given him a warning just now. He had the bottle of something clutched firmly in his hand to prove it hadn’t been a hallucination. She had _apologized_. _Apologized_ after rushing in distraught over an apparent vision that he was _dead_. It made absolutely no sense and was probably a trap, but right now nothing made sense, and Merlin had a terrible feeling he needed to obey the warning anyway. That meant following whatever paltry hints she had left, which were him dead, Uther dead, and this bottle.

Somehow Merlin made it to the door without someone forcing him back into bed, probably because they seemed to be frozen from shock. Hand on the door, Merlin turned back briefly to look Arthur in the eye. He made sure all his words were properly on is tongue before he ordered. “Don’t follow me.”

No one did, though he wasn’t sure they were refraining because he’d asked. Merlin wasn’t even sure why he was bothering to keep them away. They all knew about his magic. There was no point in trying to hide it anymore. Unless they didn’t know he had it back. Loathe as he was to go back to more lies, perhaps it was best if they never did. Then maybe Arthur might one day feel safe enough around him to trust him again.

A trust he would be breaking once again by his very existence.

As Merlin rushed uncoordinatedly through the corridors towards Uther’s chambers, he tried to piece together what he knew. He’d been dying. That he remembered for sure. He’d gone to call Kilgarrah, but… well, sometime between going to the woods and coming back here, he must have succeeded in summoning him.

Though if Kilgharrah was able to heal him and restore his magic, why couldn’t he have just said so back when Merlin brought the problem to him in the first place?

After that, he remembered waking up. Gaius and Lancelot –maybe it wasn’t Lancelot; maybe _that_ was the hallucination– assuring him he was safe and not to try to move too much. Morgana bursting in and spinning her tale of nightmares. Morgana giving him…

He looked down at the bottle in his hands. He didn’t recognize it, but he would give up ever doing magic again willingly on the bet that it was poison. A poison he had no clue what it was nor how to defeat it because he’d rushed out without consulting Gaius.

Well, he’d made worse decisions.

There were no guards outside Uther’s room. He hadn’t expected any. If anyone had known something had happened to the king, Gaius would have been sent for, and Arthur would have been with his father instead of watching over Merlin as if he were going to burn down the castle in his sleep.

Inside, there was no sign anything was wrong. Uther slept soundly. Was he wrong in his deduction of Morgana’s warning? Had she given him the poison because she had changed her mind about killing the king?

“ _I’m not the person you think I am_ ,” she’d said sadly. What kind of person did Merlin think she was? Angry, vengeful, rash. Lonely, sad, frightened. She’d proved herself someone willing to kill Uther and anyone else who got in her way. But that wasn’t the person Merlin had protected from discovery. The person he had saved from a mortal head wound. The person he had secretly provided safe water to despite his better judgement.

A moment’s inspection of the king told him which person she was giving up on. Uther’s breathing was laboured, his pallor a sickly green.

“Oh, Morgana…”

He’d known it was coming, and still it hurt. He’d just lost Arthur, and now he’d lost Morgana, too. Kilgharrah would tell him later that she’d chosen her own path and there had been no saving her, but Merlin knew better by now. Destiny had a lot to answer for.

Merlin didn’t know what specific spell would cure Uther of this poison. He only knew that if Arthur lost his father now, in light of everything that had happened between them, there would be no going back for Arthur either.

Well, if these were going to be dire stakes, he was going to have to use a dire spell. Placing both hands over Uther’s chest, one hand still clutching to the bottle of poison, he incanted, “ _Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ!_ ”

The effect was almost immediate. Merlin stumbled backward from the rush of magic as Uther snapped his eyes open with a gasp. The servant stepped as far back into the shadows as he could when the king bolted upright, but it was too late.

“What are you– Guards! What have you done to me, boy? Guards!”

Merlin turned to flee, but those previously uselessly absent guards were there in an instant, grabbing him by the arms. Uther stalked out of bed, ignoring his nightgowned state and gave him a stern glare.

“What are you doing in here, boy? Hmm?” His hand shot forward before Merlin could even open his mouth to stammer an answer, snatching the bottle from his hand. “What is this? Think to poison me, do you? Throw him in the cells. I’ll deal with him in the morning. And someone check on Arthur. Make sure he hasn’t tried this on him as well.”

Merlin struggled in vain as the guards dragged him down to the dungeons and tossed him in a cell. A miserable laugh escaped from his throat, one he couldn’t stop no matter how he tried. To think, after all this, it wasn’t possession of magic that killed him in the end!

The guards eyed him warily through the bars. “A mad one, izzit?”

“Looks it. Type as would slit your throat then settle merrily down for dinner wif his mam.”

“And to think ‘e was serving the prince!”

“Here’s hoping he didn’t get to him first!”

Merlin’s laughter trailed off, and he scuttled over to curl up in the corner. Arthur. Once upon a time he would have thought Arthur would save him from this. Now… he’d be lucky if his old friend didn’t smile as he was executed.

At some point he somehow managed to doze off. Merlin awoke to someone softly calling his name.

“Merlin! Merlin, I know you can hear me. Come on, don’t ignore me, you idiot, not now. Please.”

That caught his attention and forced him to stare at his visitor, sure he had heard that wrong. “ _Please_?”

Arthur was stood at the bars, correction, Arthur was stood _inside_ the bars of his cell, looking upon him with a pained expression on his face.

“You’ve barely had your magic back for a night. How did you possibly manage to get in so much trouble so soon?”

So much for keeping his regained magic a secret. Oh well, it was a terrible plan anyway. “I have a talent,” he muttered, turning away again. If he was going to die, he didn’t want to do it being yelled at. He wanted to be left with his memories of when Arthur was his friend.

“I’ll say. You know, I think you’re running out of ‘save me’ cards.”

“What, _once_ was too many times for you? Try having to save your sorry princely arse every stinking day.” If he was going to be denied the chance to savour his last moments in peace, he was at least going to go out swinging.

“I’d say it was more than on- …” he sighed, shaking his head. “You’re right, Merlin. Thank you.”

Please _and_ thank you? Was he dreaming? He’d certainly had better ones if so.

“My father means to try you in the morning and execute you tomorrow afternoon. He’ll send guards to fetch you at dawn, and half the army will be after you by breakfast. You’ll need to be well gone by then.”

Definitely a dream. Or else it was a very cruel joke. “I’m not going to do this with you, Arthur. Please, just go.”

“I will if you promise you will. You have the next ten minutes once I leave this cell. Go to the far end of this corridor, just past the jailer’s barracks you’ll find a winch. It will open a passageway to one of the old tunnels. Stop at Guinevere’s, she’ll have food and supplies for you. The way will be clear, but only if you leave immediately.”

“What are you–”

“ _Leave_ , Merlin. Go. Get out of here.”

“I can’t–”

“You can and you will.” The anger Merlin had been expecting from a real Arthur was returning quickly. “You think if by some miracle you’re able to convince my father you’re innocent that this will be the end of it? It’s only a manner of time until you’re back on trial for sorcery. You can possibly think you’ll get a third chance on that score. I’m not going to kill you, Merlin, but if you don’t leave this instant, I won’t stop my father from doing so.”

Arthur stalked out, closing but not locking the cell door behind him. He made as if to storm back to the main level, but he stopped just out of sight. He watched the cell with bated breath. _Come on, Merlin_. _Take it. Go._ Just when he was about to give up, the servant slipped quietly out into the corridor. He paused, then untied the ever-present purple scarf from his arm, bringing it to his lips. Then he draped it around the bars of the cell, turned, and ran.

“That was a bit harsh, don’t you think?” Lancelot crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the same sight.

“I had to do it,” Arthur replied. He had. Merlin had given him no other option. He stepped forward again and picked up the scarf, the fabric still warm from Merlin’s bicep. “I made a promise. This was the only way I could keep it. You’ll watch out for him?”

“Of course,” Lancelot swore. “I made a promise, too. And no offense, but Gaius scares me far more than you do.”

Arthur grinned wearily. “None taken.” He clasped arms with Lancelot. “I hope you can return one day. Both of you. But if Merlin chooses not to… I understand.”

“He will. You underestimate Merlin’s love for Camelot. For you. He will always return when you need him.”

Arthur couldn’t quite believe that was so, not after the way he’d treated Merlin recently. But still… “I’ll always need him.”

Lancelot smiled. “Then I’m sure you’ll see him again soon, sire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sequel was written to this, it will be posted as soon as it is edited.


End file.
